The Wrongly Accused
by Olivia94
Summary: When a young woman is murdered, Shawn is their number one suspect. How will he get out of this one? There will be whumpage. Shules-ish, but that's not the main point of the story. Read and review! Please and thanks!
1. No Escape

**Okay! Here's the beginning of my latest story. I know I'm in the middle of one already, but I can't resist! This idea came to me and I've gotta jump on it! I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the brilliance that is Psych**

**OooOooO**

How did it come to this? How did he end up on this side of the blockade, with the cops on the other? Outside he could hear the sirens blaring loudly. _Sweet Baby J, there are a lot of sirens. What do I do? What do I do? WHAT DO I DO?! _

Any minute the cops would barge in and arrest him. He had no way out. No escape.

He frantically searched all around him for some sort of exit. _There has to be a way for me to get out of here. _"Here" was an empty office space on the corner of Bunker Hill and 2nd Street. There were a few cheap desks that the previous owners had clearly not cared to get rid of sitting against the walls, but that was about it. _It'll have to do._

He dove behind a desk and attempted to conceal himself as best he could. After a few seconds, he chanced a glance out the window. _Crap. _A swarm of black and whites along with his two favorite detectives were creeping their way towards the nearly deserted building, doing their best to stay concealed. _Oh right. Like I'd shoot them. _

The glass door burst open and room was filled with police. He just stayed behind the desk, not breathing. After a few seconds of confused searching, she found him.

Detective Juliet O'Hara shouted, "I've got him!" Resigned, he stood up and simply looked at her. He could see the sadness in her eyes and hear the quaver in her voice as she slapped the cuffs on his wrists and said coldly, "Shawn Spencer, you are under arrest for the murder of Kathleen Fox."

**OooOooO**

**I know, I know. It's super short. This is really just a taste. A tidbit. What do you think, should I continue, or is it a misfire? REVIEW! Please and thanks!**


	2. Diving Deeper

**Since my last chapter was so short I decided to post the next. Hope you enjoy!**

**OooOooO**

_27 hours, 13 minutes and 42 seconds earlier…_

"This is a really bad idea." Gus called after his best friend futilely as they entered the quiet house. "Shawn! Shawn can you hear me?"

"Of course I can hear you, man. You're two feet away. I'm just ignoring you. Completely different."

"Shawn!"

"Gus, don't be a calloused lemur coming off a three day sugar high. All we've got to do is check around a little. Five minutes max. Then we should go get smoothies"

Gus sighed in frustration. He was fighting a losing battle and he knew it. Shawn and Gus went to opposite sides of the empty living room and began to pick through the resident's personal items.

What are we looking for, anyways?" Gus questioned.

"I don't know." Shawn replied casually.

"'I don't know?' What do you mean 'I don't know?'"

Shawn stopped in his tracks. Looking around he said, "Is there an echo in here, or something?"

Catching the glance Gus threw at him, Shawn proceeded to explain as he looked through pictures. "Look, there's just something about this Kate Wolfe that makes me uneasy."

"You mean Kathleen Fox?"

Shawn paused. "Isn't that what I said? Anyways, it's just the look in her eyes when she came to talk to us. She just seemed… scared. Like there was more to her story than she was letting on." Shawn phased out, lost in thought.

"Isn't this the lady who came in about her wallet being stolen?"

Shawn snapped back into reality. "Yep. Your point?"

"So, isn't breaking and entering, risking arrest might I add, a bit of an overreaction to a pick pocketing case?"

Shawn looked at Gus like he'd just slapped him. "Gus. I am shocked. Just shocked." 

"What? What did I do?"

"I follow through each and every case no matter what. I will dive as deep as I have to to ensure the safety and well being of our client."

Anyone else would have thought that Shawn was sincere. Gus knew him too well. He just raised an eyebrow and the two resumed their searching.

Shawn continued to talk, his voice getting quieter and quieter as he made his way to the back of the small house.

"Wow. This girl lives here all by her self. You'd think that she'd want a pet. A fish, a turtle, a chimp, somethi—" Shawn's voice cut off abruptly.

After a few seconds Gus noticed the lack of noise. "Shawn? Shawn?" Gus began to walk down the hallway towards were he last heard Shawn's voice.

His best friend came into view standing in what Gus could only assume was the bathroom.

"Shawn, what're you—" Gus stopped when he saw what Shawn was staring at: the body of Kathleen Fox lying dead in a puddle of blood.

**OooOooO**

**I know, I know. This one is short too. Blame it on biology. Sorry if my characterization of Gus sucks. I've never been too good with him (it's why he's not normally in my stories). Oh well. I 3 reviews! Review if you want the next chapter up soon!! It'll be longer, I promise!**


	3. I Told You So

**Hello, fellow Psych-os! Here we have chapter tres! I hope you have been enjoying the story so far! This chapter is where things really start happening, so I hope you like it! Thanks to those who reviewed!**

**OooOooO**

Once Shawn had recovered from the shock of finding their client dead on the floor enough to talk he said, "I told you so."

Gus looked at him incredulously, "I told you so?"

Shawn looked around once more. "They really need to get that echo fixed."

"Shawn! This is a dead human being."

"What, that makes me less right?" Gus exhaled in frustration as Shawn squatted and began to examine the body.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking her for change. I don't have enough money to buy that smoothie."

"Shawn!"

"What do you think I'm doing, Gus? I'm examining the body. Looking for cuts, bullet holes, blood, receipts, angry letters—anything."

Gus looked skeptical, "Angry letters?"

"Yes, Gus. Angry letters. Likely J. Maybe R. They've always seemed suspicious to me."

This is the point where Gus decided to stop talking, his own sanity in mind.

Shawn continued to scan the body for any sort of wound that looked to be fatal. _All this blood has to be coming from somewhere._ After a few minutes Shawn spotted what seemed to be a gash on the side of the body. Gently turning the body to get a better look, Shawn realized that it was a stab wound.

"Found it!" Shawn said in a singsong voice.

"What is it?" It didn't escape Shawn's notice that Gus was avoiding looking at the body.

"Looks like a stab wound."

"From what?"

Shawn looked at Gus like he'd just said that he couldn't name all of the children in the Brady Bunch.

"Well, my best guess is a unicorn horn, but I'm not ruling out lawn-gnome hat."

"It's a legitimate question Shawn!"

"A knife Gus. A knife." Shawn continued to examine the wound thoughtfully.

"Well, do you see anything?"

"I'm not quite sure yet…" Shawn paused for a moment. "Well you see how deep the stab went" Gus refused to look but Shawn didn't notice. "I'd say that whoever did this is strong. Another thing. The angle. It looks like the knife came in from the side. The left side." Shawn mimicked stabbing, making a mental note of the angle his invisible blows were landing. "Whoever did this is left handed."

"So we've got a strong left-handed person. Oh, joy! The case is solved. Let's call the police!" Gus exclaimed sarcastically.

"I've gotten all I can get. Let's call Lassie and Jules."

OooOooO

Lassiter and Juliet arrived at the scene mere minutes after Shawn and Gus called them, accompanied by paramedics and several black and whites. Shawn and Gus pulled up moments later having hopped back in the car and driven around the block so it didn't seem like they were already there.

Shawn stepped, or stumbled rather, out of the car and directly into the side of Lassiter's car.

"Spencer! Get the hell off my car!" The detective bellowed.

"Sorry, he can't help it," Gus explained, "Shawn is having a vision right now. A big one too. I can't control him."

"Spencer!"

"He can't hear you, either."

Suddenly Shawn grabbed his side and fell to his knees. He cried out, as if in pain.

"Someone is killing me!" He wailed. "So… sharp. A knife! Help! Please." Shawn broke down into fake sobs.

"Shawn?" Juliet sounded concerned.

"What the hell is he talking about?" Lassiter asked in an annoyed voice.

"I think he's trying to say that someone has been killed in this house." Gus translated.

Shawn stopped crying abruptly and slumped onto the ground. After a moment, he sprang back up as if everything was normal.

"What's up?"

Lassiter would have thought up a clever retort, but he had more pressing issues. "Let's get a team in there stat!" There was confused movement for a moment as everyone got into position to enter the house.

Lassiter, Juliet, Shawn and Gus all stayed outside as the other officers went inside. After a few minutes, an officer exited. He pulled Lassiter aside.

"We found a body, presumably the resident's." He reported.

"Okay," Lassiter began "let's get a forensics team in there for a full sweep. I want this scene processed. I want to know the names of everyone who has been in that house."

**OooOooO**

**Ya see where this is going? Ok, I've gotta say. The reviews, unfortunately, have been lacking. Which makes me sad. Especially because of how excited I am about this story. Please review! It means so much to me! If I get enough, I **_**might**_** be able to get the next chapter up by the end of the weekend. Thanks! :D**


	4. The Principles That They Swore To

**Chapter 4! So, I have been writing every spare second I've had. Don't believe me, ask my teachers. (Actually, don't do that. It'd be super creepy.). We're finally getting to the good stuff! PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks! Hope you enjoy!**

**OooOooO**

"Five minutes my ass." Gus complained, "Next thing you know we'll conversing with ghosts and attempting to reunite the souls of two lovers long dead."

"You did not just make that reference." Shawn said disbelievingly.

"What?" Gus asked, confused.

"The Haunted Mansion? Really? That's the best you can do? That makes you Marsha Thomason in this analogy. Is that what you want?" Gus just rolled his eyes and wisely decided to say nothing.

The duo was stuck behind the yellow crime scene tape while the "professionals" did their "work". After a few minutes, Gus spoke up again.

"What are we doing here, Shawn?"

"Well, right now we are standing, behind yellow tape. And now you're scratching your face. And now—"

"Shawn!"

"Look, man. This is our client. Which makes this our case! Leaving the scene of the crime would be… irresponsible. A betrayal of the principles that we swore to when we became detectives." Shawn said with confidence.

"But Shawn, Lassiter and Juliet don't _want_ us here. How are we supposed to do anything while we're stuck behind this tape?"

Shawn thought for a moment. "I've got the perfect idea!"

"What?" Gus kept the excitement out of his voice.

Shawn simply lifted up the tape with one hand and ducked underneath it.

"We go in and look."

OooOooO

The house was clean. Spotless. Whoever committed this crime must've gone back through and cleaned up everything. Aside from the body in the bathroom it would be impossible to guess that a murder had taken place there.

Luckily for the detectives, the body was covered in DNA. Hair and a couple of fingerprints. _Get that back to the lab, get it analyzed and we have our killer. _Detective O'Hara thought. Identifying the fingerprints wouldn't take much time at all. The hair, however, could take a while.

It looked like the victim, Kathleen Fox, had been killed in one place and moved to her current position. _Judging by the pool of blood it can't have been too far away. _Juliet thought. The body was positioned, spread eagle on the floor. Her arms and legs all seemed to be an equal distance from her abdomen. The chances of anyone falling into that position was very unlikely. _So it's looking like this woman was stabbed in the side, piercing a lung, then dragged into here—probably from another room in the house. The killer would've gone back and cleaned up his mess, which is why it all seems so clean. Whoever did this is smart. He knows the ropes. He knew exactly how to cover up his crime. But… wait… that's weird. If he were so careful about everything else, why would he leave prints and hairs on the body?_

OooOooO

"What have you got for me O'Hara?" Lassiter said as he approached his partner in the victim's living room.

"Not much. This guy was smart. He cleaned the whole place down." Juliet proceeded to go into detail about all she'd found.

"Dammit." Lassiter said quietly.

"What? What's wrong?" Juliet asked her partner, concerned.

"How the hell did Spencer know about this?" Juliet was quiet for a moment as her partner thought. "I mean, there weren't any signs from the outside of the house. I got his call, saying we had to get here immediately and I thought I'd bring a bunch of officers you know, embarrass him. And then there's this…" Lassiter gestured to the entire room. "How the hell could he have known?"

OooOooO

"Shawn, if Lassiter catches us in here I'm pretty sure he'll draw his gun on us." Gus said uncertainly.

Shawn sighed loudly. "Gus, do you need me to repeat my speech on our principles?" Shawn glanced at his pest friend to find a look of irritation. "Lassie is a fellow keeper of the peace. He has to respect that."

The duo took another look at all they'd already seen, keeping in mind now that a crime had been committed there. After a few minutes, they came up with nothing. Nada. Zitch. Zilch.

"So, Mr. Keeper of the Peace" Gus said sarcastically, "What do we do now?"

Shawn sighed, "I guess we have to wait and see what Lassie and Jules come up with."

OooOooO

"Carlton!" Juliet called across the police station. As she approached him, she said, "Okay, so I've run that shoe print through the system. It belongs to a size 10 kangaroo brand shoe. A male style. Which, of course, narrows it down to about half of the men in Santa Barbara."

Lassiter nodded, unsurprised. "And the finger prints?"

"Running through the system as we speak. The hair is waiting to be analyzed. The lab is a bit backed up so it might take a while. But, I do have forensics fingerprinting all of the knives in the house as well as testing them for blood."

"Well done, O'Hara. Just tell me the moment those lab results—"

"Ummm, guys?" Buzz McNab's voice came from O'Hara's desk.

"Not now McNab!" Carlton yelled.

Buzz brushed it off, "The finger print results have come in. You're gonna want to see this…"

Juliet and Lassiter practically raced each other to the desk. Juliet gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth when she saw the results.

On the screen was a photo of none other than their very own Shawn Spencer.

**OooOooO**

**Ok, guys, this one is longer. Happy? If yes, review. If no, review. Basically just review. Please? **


	5. Of All People

**Here is chapter 5! I hope you enjoy it! Please review! Thanks! I like to use exclamation points! **

**This chapter has been redone since I first posted. I think I sped through it a little too much. It's not all that much longer, but I think it makes a difference.**

**OooOooO**

Everything that was said after she saw Shawn's face on the computer screen was lost on Juliet. _No. This is wrong. It can't—It—_She was on the verge of a panic attack. In an attempt to steady herself, Juliet reached out and grabbed the corner of the nearest desk. Legs like jell-o, she collapsed into the chair pulled up to it. Juliet attempted to calm her breathing.

"Sir, his prints match the ones on what we think is the murder weapon." If it were anyone else, this would be a slam-dunk case. Lassiter would have taken out his beloved handcuffs and taken the perp to jail.

But this wasn't anyone else. This was Shawn. There wasn't a soul in the station who would even have been able to imagine that Shawn was even _capable_ of murder.

"Sir," Buzz said uncertainly, "what do we do now?"

After a moment's pause, Lassiter responded, "What do you think we do McNab? We bring him in for questioning. The evidence against him is overwhelming, we don't have a choice."

"But you don't really think that Shawn—" Lassiter cut Buzz off.

"It doesn't matter what I _think _McNab! All that matters is what I see. And I _see _Spencer's face on those results. We can't give Spencer special treatment." By this point every eye in the station was trained on Lassiter. "I don't like it anymore than you do, people," Lassiter addressed the entire department "but we have a job to do."

Lassiter walked over to his desk and proceeded to pretend to do paperwork. The other officers resumed carrying out their tasks, but a pall of uneasiness hung over the office like a dark cloud.

Juliet was the only one who didn't pretend like nothing had happened. She sat at the desk, her thoughts racing. _This is wrong. There's no way that Shawn—that Shawn could possibly even think about—_

Juliet turned to Lassiter, whose desk was only a few feet away. "I'll call him. You know, tell him to come in."

Lassiter looked up from his 'paperwork'. "O'Hara, I'm not sure if that's—"

"No. I need to do this. Please." Lassiter nodded slowly. Juliet began making her way across the station when her partner's voice stopped her.

"O'Hara!"

"Yes?"

"Don't do anything stupid."

OooOooO

Shawn was sitting at his desk in the Psych office when Juliet called him. Gus, thank goodness, was out on his rounds. If he were around he'd likely have a panic attack.

When the phone rang, Shawn was brought out of his thoughts about the case.

"Psych!" Shawn said the word with as much snap as he could muster.

"Shawn?" Had Juliet not sounded so distressed, Shawn would have thought of a witty retort to the ridiculous question.

"Jules, is everything okay?" The deep, genuine concern in Shawn's voice tore at Juliet's heart. _How do I tell shim? I mean, there's no way that he's a killer. Just… no way. Lassiter would want me to ask him to come in, tell him it's important. We could drop the bomb on him at the station. But… that wouldn't be fair to him. _Juliet pictured the look of betrayal that would be on Shawn's faceif she did that.

Juliet somehow managed to keep her voice steady as she spoke next, "It's about the case. The Kathleen Fox murder." She paused, unsure of how to continue.

"What is it, Jules?" Shawn asked softly. There was silence on the other end for a full fifteen seconds.

"Shawn, you need to come in here for questioning." Shawn's reaction startled Juliet: He started laughing. It was all a joke to him. "Shawn? Are you laughing? This is serious!"

"Oh sure Jules. I'll 'go to the station for questioning'." He continued to laugh uncontrollably. Once he calmed down, he said, "Whew, that's a good one, Jules."

"Shawn! I'm not joking! This is serious. Your prints are all over the body and the murder weapon. You need to come down here right now."

Shawn's laughs subsided rather quickly. "Oh my God, you're serious." Silence. "This is ridiculous, Jules! I didn't do anything."

On the other end, Juliet was struggling to keep her emotions to herself. _Come on O'Hara! You can't afford to treat this case any different than all the others. _

"I'm sorry, Shawn. But you've got to come down to the station or we'll send someone to get you." Juliet hated how harsh her voice sounded.

"Wha- but- Come on Jules. You don't seriously think that I killed that woman... Do you?" Shawn asked uncertainly.

Juliet was quiet for a moment. "It doesn't matter what I think, Shawn. The evidence here is pretty strong—" She tried to sound as professional as possible.

"Oh my God." Shawn cut her off. "You think I'm guilty. You. Of all people, you!" Shawn accused angrily. He stood up out of his chair and grabbed his car keys.

Juliet was taken aback by his tone. "Shawn, I didn't—I don't—"

"This is—this is… insane! I can't believe this." Shawn continued to babble to himself as he made his way out to his bike.

"Please, Shawn. I'm just trying to do my job. I'm not saying—"

"Forget it, Juliet." The use of her full name was like a punch in the stomach. "You're just doing what you have to do. But I'm telling you, I didn't kill anyone. And I'm going to prove it."

"Shawn, no don't! You're just making it worse for yourself!" It was too late. He'd already hung up.

**OooOooO**

**Yes! Finally we're to the action! Okay, so I stretched it out as much as I could while keeping up Juliet's professional façade. If I get enough reviews, you have my word that I'll update before the weekend is out :D. If not, you'll likely have to wait until next Sunday. I'm not trying to blackmail, but reviews give me the energy to write. So please review! Thanks!**


	6. Caught In a Web of Lies

**Here's chapter 6! Hope you enjoy. Please review! Thanks!**

**OooOooO**

FLASHBACK

_SANTA BARBARA, 1989_

_Shawn crept, slowly and quietly, down the hallway. He cautiously peeked around the corner to see his mother was asleep. Smiling to himself, Shawn sprinted for the backdoor. _

"_What do you think you're doing?" His father's voice came from behind him just as his hand connected with the cool metal of the door handle. Shawn whipped around. He could have kicked himself. How had he missed his dad sitting right there?_

"_Oh. Hi Dad! I was just… taking the trash out. You know how Mom gets when the trash can starts overflowing." Shawn turned back to the door._

"_Hold up now, kid." Shawn turned back to his dad. "Where's the trash?"_

"_In the trash can. I don't think you're listening, Dad."_

_Henry Spencer raised his eyebrows, somewhat amused, somewhat annoyed. "Shawn."_

_Shawn sighed, defeated. "I have to go meet someone in the park."_

"_And who would that be."_

"_Freddie Billingham." _

"_And why do you have to meet Freddie Billingham in the park?" Henry questioned._

"_Great talking to you Dad! See ya!" Once again Shawn turned to flee._

"_Shawn!" _

"_Wow, Dad, you're really not letting this one go…"_

"_No I'm not Shawn, now answer the question." Henry was starting to get irritated by his young son._

"_To give him this." Shawn un-tucked his t-shirt and pulled out an old-style gameboy game. _

"_Shawn! I paid good money for that. Why are you giving it away to some kid?"_

"_Because I have to." Shawn answered simply. Seeing the look on his father's face, he wisely decided to elaborate. "I was trying to impress this girl at lunch. I told her that my uncle invented the gameboy. Freddie overheard and he didn't believe me. He said that if I was telling him the truth I should be able to get him this" He gestured to the game clutched in his hand "no problem."_

_Henry ran his hand through his hair stressfully. "Why would you do that, Shawn?"_

_The boy shrugged. "I don't know. I just wanted the girl to like me."_

_Henry sighed and walked over to his son. Laying a hand on his shoulder he said, "Look Shawn, I get that. I do. But lying isn't the way to go about getting people to like you. All lying does is make things more complicated. Listen to me kid, if you keep this up, one of these days you're going to get tangled up in your own lies. That's when you'll get yourself into serious trouble. Got it?"_

"_Got it!" Shawn said enthusiastically before turning to the door once more. Henry spun him around. _

"_And Shawn"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_You're grounded." Shawn groaned loudly. "Now go take out the trash. Believe me, I do know how your mother gets when the bin overflows."_

END FLASHBACK

Shawn was driving. He didn't know where. He just was. He wasn't leaving; he just needed to clear his head. Everything had happened so fast. The indifference and professionalism in Juliet's voice had cut him like a knife. He'd expect that from Lassiter, but Juliet? Never.

The wind whipping past him, flowing over every inch of him was the most therapeutic experience that Shawn could ask for. It did nothing for him. Not now. How could it? He was suspected of murder. _Murder! How could I be so stupid!_ Shawn saw a sign looming ahead of him. **You are now leaving Santa Barbara. ** He steered his motorcycle to the side of the street. There were no other vehicles anywhere up and down the long stretch of road despite it being mid-afternoon.

Shawn didn't make a move to get off his bike. He didn't even take off his helmet. He just sat and thought. He replayed everything. He saw the crime scene, a clearly as if it were in front of him, in his head. Then Shawn thought about his painful conversation with Juliet.

"_Your prints are all over the body and the murder weapon!" The murder weapon? _Shawn thought.

_"Looks like a stab wound."_

_"From what?"_

_"Well, my best guess is a unicorn horn, but I'm not ruling out lawn-gnome hat."_

_"It's a legitimate question Shawn!"_

_"A knife Gus. A knife." _

_I never touched a single knife in that house… _Shawn took a moment to consider this. _The prints on the body are my fault. I put them there. But the prints on the knife… No. I'd remember if I touched a knife. Those aren't real. Someone is setting me up. _Shawn realized. _But who? And why?_

Shawn fired up his engine, turned around his bike, and sped back towards Santa Barbara. Someone was framing him and he intended to find out who.

OooOooO

_Stupid stupid stupid! _Juliet was furious with herself. _How could I be so stupid? _She never should have told Shawn about their suspicions. She should have just tricked him. _But he's my friend. But I'm a cop too. _Juliet groaned aloud, drawing looks from the bustling officers nearby.

O'Hara was pacing madly in front of the police station. She figured that from here she had two choices. She could tell Lassiter that Shawn ran and they needed to hunt him down, or she could say that he didn't pick up. _If I tell the truth, Shawn could be charged with resisting arrest along with murder. If I lie, I'm a terrible cop. _Her thoughts were racing. She'd never felt so conflicted.

Juliet plopped down on the steps leading up to the doors and put her head in her hands, not caring how unprofessional she looked. _How did this happen? How did we get here? _Little did she know things were about to get a whole lot worse.

**OooOooO**

**Sorry this took so long guys. Severe case of writer's block. Which also means that I'm a teensy bit insecure about this chapter. I dunno, it just never clicked. Here's a bit of insight into how I work. I come up with a basic plot line. For instance: Shawn is accused of murder. From there I sit down at my handy laptop and write whatever my fingers decide to. I don't outline or anything like that. So right now, I don't really know where this is going. Hence the writer's block. **

**HEY! You know what clears up writer's block? REVIEWS! Please and thanks! **


	7. Like the Pieces of a Puzzle

**Okie doke! Here is chapter 7. Hope you enjoy! Review please and thanks! :D**

**OooOooO**

Shawn only stopped once on his way back to Santa Barbara, and it was to fill up the tank of his bike and grab something to drink. Stepping into the cool interior of the gas station, Shawn pulled out his cell phone. He dialed Gus's number and impatiently waited for his best friend to answer his phone.

"Burton Guster."

"Hey buddy, what's up?"

"Nothing, Shawn. Why are you calling me when you know I'm at work? This had better be important." Shawn was a little stung by the sharpness in his partner's voice.

"Gus I need you to do a background check on Kathleen Fox." For his part, Gus was equally taken aback by the seriousness in Shawn's voice.

"What for?"

"Oh, well I'm thinking of going into identity theft. What do you think? We're solving a murder, remember?" Shawn replied sarcastically.

"Well for your information Shawn, I already did a background check a few days ago. You know, when she actually became our client."

"Yes, I vaguely remember." Shawn mused as he pulled a coke from the fridge at the back of the store.

"Well that makes sense considering you were too busy building a cabin out of egg rolls to actually do any work."

"A lodge Gus, it was a lodge. For all of the rice babies to live in. Haven't we already had this conversation?"

"Do you want to hear about Kathleen Fox or not." Gus said, annoyed.

"Go on."

"She's 28 years old. No immediate family. No current boyfriend. She's had financial issues lately considering she's an amateur actress—" Gus rattled out.

"Wait, what was that last one?" Shawn cut him off.

"She was an amateur actress. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Uh, nothing. Nothing at all, buddy. Thanks." Shawn hung up his cell phone, leaving Gus in the dark. He grabbed his soda and raced out to his Norton. This case was beginning to make a whole lot more sense.

OooOooO

Juliet walked into the station wearily, thoughts still racing. This was going to be a long day.

"O'Hara!" Lassiter's voice came from across the station. "What the hell has been keeping you so long?"

Juliet glanced down at her watch. _Great. Have I really been out there for half an hour? _

"Um, nothing. Sorry. I just needed to clear my head."

Lassiter's gaze was sympathetic for a moment before turning professional again. "Well, did you get a hold of Spencer?"

Juliet hesitated for a fraction of a second. "No. Uh, no, he didn't answer."

Lassiter opened his mouth to curse, but was interrupted before he could start.

"Excuse me! Please! Somebody! I need help!" Juliet spun around and saw a young guy, mid thirties, frantically searching the station for assistance. She shot a glance back to her partner and, after seeing a nod of confirmation, approached the man.

"Hello, sir. I'm Detective Juliet O'Hara." The man turned terrified eyes on the detective.

"Detective. Thank God. My name is Ron Turner. I need to report a missing persons case."

"For whom?"

"My friend, I think she was kidnapped. I can't be sure. I just saw a man walk into her house. I thought it was all fine. I thought she knew him. But I haven't heard from her in over a day and we were supposed to meet for breakfast this morning." Ron was talking so fast Juliet could hardly follow what he was saying.

"Well, we can't start an investigation until it's been 48 hours. But… why don't you give me her name. If we hear anything I can alert you." She added the last part purely as a response to the desperation in the man's eyes.

"It's Kathleen, Kathleen Fox."

Juliet was shocked to silence for a moment. "Kathleen Fox?" Ron nodded distractedly. Juliet spun around and caught Lassiter's, who was watching the exchange with interest, eyes. She motioned for him to come over and led Ron to one of the benched lining the walls.

"What's going on here?" Carlton questioned.

Ron opened his mouth to answer but Juliet was faster. "He's here to report a missing person. Kathleen Fox." The partners exchanged a meaningful glance. Ron Turner nodded in confirmation.

"Could you describe her, please?" Lassiter asked.

"Um, well, she's 28. Probably about as tall as you" He gestured to Juliet. "Her hair is brown. A really light brown." The man chuckled sadly "She always tries to convince people that it's blonde." He stopped talking, lost in thought.

"Is there anything else? Anything distinctive to look for?" Juliet asked softly.

"What? Oh, yeah. Yeah, she has this scar. It's pretty big. A bit to the right of her belly button. When she was a kid she fell climbing a tree. The branch right near went straight through her. She still loves climbing though…" The man was lost in thought once more.

The two detectives made eye contact once again. A silent message was understood by both. _It's her._

Lassiter decided to be the one to break the news. "I'm very sorry, sir. The woman you just described was found murdered earlier today."

"Wha- but, no! There has to be some kind of mistake. I mean, are you sure?!" Ron cried.

Juliet nodded sadly. "Kathleen Fox was found murdered in her home around noon today." There was a moment of troubled silence before she continued. "You mentioned seeing a man walk into her house. When was this?"

Ron dried his eyes with his sleeve. "Well, that was this morning. I drove by her house when she didn't show up for breakfast and saw him walking in. He didn't seem out of place at the time. I drove by her house a little later and her car was there, but the doors and windows were locked. Blinds drawn, lights out. I called in a few times but she didn't answer. I left but got worried after a few hours, so I came here."

_There's something about his story that isn't adding up… _O'Hara thought.

"Could you describe this man?" Lassiter asked impatiently.

Ron thought for a moment. "He's average height. Kind of messy brown hair. He was wearing jeans and this red polo. Wait… he drove a motorcycle. Black. I think it was a Norton, but I'm no completely sure."

Juliet's heart sunk to her toes. There was only one person he could be talking about. _Shawn._

**OooOooO**

**It's starting to come together, isn't it? Well, it is for me of course. I'm the one writing it. I'm going to try to update as quickly as possible, but I'm super busy this week. Worse case scenario the next chapter will be up next Sunday.**

**Thanks so much for reviewing! It really means a lot to me! So keep it up! Please review! Thanks!**


	8. Progress

**Here's chapter 8! Sorry if it's confusing. Oh yeah, some of y'all have been wondering when the whumpage will start. I'm not sure when, but you have my word that it's coming! This story's got quite a lot left in it. I have it planned out, so it's coming! Be patient please! :D. Please read and review. Thanks!**

**OooOooO**

Shawn's phone was ringing again. It had been ringing almost non-stop for the past fifteen minutes. The first few times, he had pulled to the side of the deserted road to see who was calling. It was Juliet or Lassiter every time. _They're looking for me. _All Shawn could do was avoid answering his phone then claim it was dead or something. He didn't want to be charged with avoiding arrest.

His mind had been working a mile a minute since he'd talked to Gus. _Amateur actress. That's why she seemed so off! She wasn't scared when she came to talk to us; she was feeling guilty. What she wasn't letting on was that she was hired to come to us. This was all some big plan to set me up. Whoever's doing this is smart. Really smart. He sends this girl in so that I've met her—I have an undeniable connection with her. Then he kills her. And he went all out framing me. There's probably fingerprints, shoeprints, hairs—he's going to make this airtight. But why… _Shawn thought through all of his recent cases, hoping to remember someone who would have reason for doing something like this. Then he had a realization—there are dozens of people who would want to do this to him. Of course this was all speculation. He had no real proof that any of this was right. _But since when have I ever waited to have proof?_

Shawn could see the lights of the city coming up in the distance. By this time the sun was low in the sky. _Crap. _Shawn thought, _Where am I supposed to go? They're probably looking for me by now. _He couldn't go to his dad's or Gus's—those would be the first places they looked for him. He needed somewhere where he could stay away from the cops, but be able to sort this out.

OooOooO

"What do we do know?" Lassiter heard his partner's voice behind him. He spun around. Though she remained composed, the sadness in her eyes was clear.

Lassiter ran his long fingers through his hair. "Spencer's still not answering his phone?" Juliet shook her head. "Have you called Guster yet?"

"Yeah." Juliet said. "I didn't tell him why I was looking for Shawn, though. Gus said he hasn't heard from Shawn since they left the scene last night."

"Have you called Spencer?"

"Yes, Carlton. I already told you that. He's not answering." Juliet said through gritted teeth.

"Not that one! The older one."

"Oh, right" Juliet said, embarrassed. "No, I haven't called him yet."

"Why don't you go do that?" He said it like a question, but they both knew it was an order.

When Juliet made no attempt to move, Lassiter said, "O'Hara? Did you hear me?" Irritation was clear in his voice.

His partner merely nodded slowly, she was gazing off into the distance. "It's just…" She started, "It's just that something isn't adding up… Something about this Ron guy. I just don't…" Her voice trailed off.

"O'Hara." Juliet's eyes snapped out of their trance to focus on Lassiter. "Do you have something? If you do, I need to hear it. I know you're… close with Spencer, but don't let your professional opinion be changed by that. Now, do you really think something's wrong, or is it just because Spencer is involved?"

There was a cold resolution in O'Hara's stare. "Something isn't adding up. This isn't just about Shawn. Ron's story just doesn't make sense to me. Why did he come here instead of checking on his friend? I don't know… it's just… It doesn't make sense that Shawn would call in the murder. Why would he do that if he were the killer? Plus, there have been units at Kathleen Fox's house all day. Ron should have seen them. It just doesn't make sense that a guy would drive by his friend's house, see a man walk in, go to meet her for breakfast, get stood up, then wait hours before coming to the police instead. His story makes it seem like he was outside of her house, checking up on her while she was dead inside. Well, that can't have been later than 11:30 this morning. Why would he wait" She checked her watch "Ten hours before getting help?"

It took a moment for Lassiter to register everything she said—the jumbled manner she said everything and the break-neck speed at which it was said didn't make this any easier. He nodded his head slowly as he came to the same realization as she did. _Ron Turner is a liar._

"I think we need to have another chat with Mr. Turner."

OooOooO

It was just before dark by the time Shawn stopped for the night. He hopped off his bike, tore off his helmet and looked around. He was in a heavily wooded area on the outskirts of the city. He steered his bike to a spot behind a tree and made his way into the depths of the woods. After about half and hour, he came upon a clearing. Shawn couldn't help but smile when a small structure caught his eye.

"I can't believe it's still here!" He exclaimed to himself.

FLASHBACK

_SANTA BARABRA, 1987_

"_Slow down, Shawn!" Gus yelled, chasing after his best friend. Shawn chose to ignore him and continued on his course through the woods. "Shawn! Where are we going? As soon as your dad finds out we left the campsite he's gonna be really mad!" _

"_Oh Gus, would you please calm down? My dad headed off to the woods with a newspaper. It'll take him at least fifteen minutes to find the cleanest patch of forest possible. Then he has to… you know… I'd say we've got a good forty-five minutes."_

_Gus rolled his eyes "In that case can we __please__ slow down?" Gus was starting to breathe heavily under the combined stress of the speed they were moving and the weight he was carrying. "Can you at least help me carry some of this stuff?" He cried, talking about the large tarp and poles he was carrying. _

"_I am helping!" Shawn said defensively, stopping suddenly and gesturing to the nails he was carrying in one hand and the hammer in the other. _

_Taking advantage of his friend's pause, Gus dropped his heavy load at his feet. He doubled over and panted. _

"_Wow Gus. You've got to lay off the video games. Maybe if you tried out for the croquet team like I told you, you wouldn't be this tired." _

_Gus just shook his head. By this point in their friendship he knew that no comeback would faze his best friend. Shawn spun on his heel and surveyed the area around him._

"_This place is perfect!" He exclaimed. _

"_Perfect for what?" Gus questioned warily. _

"_Our secret hideout." Shawn said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. _

"_Our what?" _

"_Secret hideout, Gus! The place we can come where nobody can find us. No one besides us will know about it. We can play games, eat candy, drink sodas—we can do anything we want!" Shawn's voice steadily rose with excitement as he spoke. _

"_But Shawn, we can't drive. How are we supposed to get back here after we leave?"_

_Shawn shook his head, his goofy grin still spread wide. "Oh Gus. It's not for now! Or next year, or the next, or the next, or even the one after that! This is for when we're grown up." _

"_How are we supposed to find it again? How will we even remember that it's here?" Gus questioned doubtfully. _

_Shawn turned confident eyes on his best friend. "Don't worry, Gus. I never forget."_

END FLASHBACK

Shawn hadn't been to this old place since the day he built it—well the day _Gus _built it. He supervised.

"I _can't _believe it's still here!" He said again as he pulled open the flap used as a door.

The inside of the tent was shabby to say the least. There were a few bugs crawling around and spider webs stretching from corner to corner. In the back of the tent there was a duffel bag next to a sleeping bag. Shawn unzipped the duffel bag and found a lantern-style flashlight. He flipped the switch and the room lit up.

"Wow. Still works."

Shawn looked over at the sleeping bag and realized for the first time how tired he was. _Well there's nothing I can do tonight. _He thought before curling up in the sleeping bag. He was asleep as soon as his eyes closed.

OooOooO

Detective Michael Walker was sitting at his desk, nervously going through papers when Ron Turner was brought in the next morning. _Oh, this is not good. This is so not good. _Walker thought nervously.

From across the station, Turner turned his head subtly and made eye contact with him. Turner coughed once before blinking his left eye, then right, then left again—all the while keeping eye contact with Michael.

_This is definitely not good._

**OooOooO**

**So, I have no idea if anyone is going to understand what just happened. I assure you, though, you will soon. Very, very soon. I should be able to update this weekend—especially now that I'm starting to see where this is going. **

**Once again, I must apologize for the complexity of this story line. If you have any questions or confusion, feel free to ask in a review or private message. As an author, sometimes it's hard to know whether anyone understands the story but you. :/**

**Sorry it took a bit to update, I've been ****super**** busy. I made it long though! **

**PLEASE REVIEW! Thank you so much!**


	9. Epiphanies, Evil Plots and Liars

**Hey fellow Psych-os! Here's chapter nine! I hope you enjoy. Btw, this story is going to be a lot longer than I thought. Like, at least 8 more chapters. Probably more than that. So I hope you're enjoying this story because it'll be around for a while! **

**Please review! Thanks!**

**OooOooO**

Sleep had always done wonders for Shawn. He would go to sleep one night, completely and totally burnt out, and would wake up the next morning like a new man. Not only that, but sleep always helped him think. It may seem strange, but when you've got a mind like Shawn's, little surprises you.

Most peoples' dreams help them work through the problems of their waking life; but for Shawn, it was more than that. Maybe it was because of the intensive training his father put him through as a kid. Maybe it was because of his photographic memory. Either way, he could essentially re-live weeks at a time during a single night of sleep. In these dreams, Shawn sometimes noticed things that he had seen earlier, but hadn't registered.

So, the next morning, when Shawn woke up, he had realized something. _There was a man…_

Shawn closed his eyes and saw it in his head:

_Shawn and Gus were walking down the sidewalk, on their way to Kathleen Fox's house. Out of the corner of his eye, Shawn saw the truck for a cleaning company across the street from their client's house. There was a man. He was pretty tall, well muscled, and had jet-black hair. He was wearing what Shawn assumed to be the cleaning company's uniform. The man was filling out some kind of form. He was left-handed…_

Shawn thought back to his observations at the scene:

"_I'd __say that whoever did this is strong. Another thing. The angle. It looks like the knife came in from the side. The left side." Shawn mimicked stabbing, making a mental note of the angle his invisible blows were landing. "Whoever did this is left handed."_

"Oh my God…" Shawn whispered to himself. Sure, it could be a coincidence, but maybe, just maybe…

Shawn closed his eyes once more and focused hard on the truck that he saw earlier:

_Pete's Cleaning Company_

_805-222-5277_

_1425 Bunker Hill Lane_

Making a decision, Shawn jumped up out of his sleeping bag, grabbed his helmet, and shot out of the tent. He sprinted through the woods and made it to his bike in fifteen minutes. He hopped on, smashed on his helmet, fired up his engine, and sped off for 1425 Bunker Hill Lane.

OooOooO

"This is ridiculous." Ron Turner said for about the ten-millionth time. Contrasting his careless tone, the man ran his long fingers through his jet-black hair nervously. This didn't go unnoticed by either detective.

"Sir, please just answer the question. Why did you wait so long to come to us? If you were so worried about your friend, why didn't you just call us as soon as you thought something was wrong?" Juliet asked in a pseudo-compassionate voice.

"I did call as soon as I thought something was up! I called Kathy like, fifteen times over the course of the day. After awhile, I got worried and came here." Ron's voice was laced with worry and desperation.

"You know what's funny about that?" Lassiter began "There were only three missed calls on her cell phone—all from her mother."

Turner's eyes widened slightly "I called her home phone."

"Ahhh, I see." Juliet said. She then picked up a file on the metal table and glanced at some of the records, "Oh, wait. Would you look here" She flashed the file at Lassiter, "Only one missed call at home. Also from her mother."

"By the way, has anyone called her yet?" Lassiter said in an aside to his partner.

"We should probably do that…" Juliet said guiltily. The two detectives turned back to their suspect.

Sweat had broken out on the man's face. He was fidgeting in his chair. _He's right where we want him. _Both detectives thought triumphantly.

Just as Ron Turner opened his mouth to answer, the door to the interrogation room was thrown open. Detective Michael Walker, a large beefy man, barged in.

"Sorry, guys, we've got to release him." He said with as much authority as he could muster.

"What?" O'Hara cried, whipping around to face the intruder.

"We've. Got. To. Release. Him." Walker said, emphasizing every word.

"Yeah, we've got that." Lassiter said in frustration "But why the hell would we want to do that? Do you see this man? He's sweating like a pig! We were just about to nail him!"

"Carlton…" Juliet warned. "Maybe we should go into the hall…" She said, jerking her head towards the hall.

Lassiter cleared his throat and glanced back at Ron Turner. "Uh, yeah." He said, embarrassed. The three detectives exited the interrogation room and went into the viewing room.

"Would you please explain why we have to let our number one suspect go?" Juliet asked Michael Walker. Her words were polite, but her tone was like ice.

Walker cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. "Why? Because he _isn't _our number one suspect. Look, I know that the two of you are a lot closer to Spencer than I am, but—"

"No," Lassiter shook his head. "This has nothing to do with Spencer! This guy is full of crap! If you just give us a second we can blow this case wide open."

"You have no case. Turner has an alibi. Several of his friends saw him this morning around the time the ME says Kathleen Fox was murdered. On the other hand…" Walker trailed off, but was compelled to continue by the daggers shooting out of Lassiter and O'Hara's eyes. "On the other hand, we've gotten four anonymous calls since this afternoon that describe a man matching Spencer's description walking into that house at that time. Spencer's our guy."

OooOooO

"Do you think, if I shot him, the Chief would believe me if I said it was an accident?" Lassiter asked O'Hara grumpily as the two detectives watched Michael Walker lead Ron Turner out of the station.

"This is wrong." Juliet said, "This is all so wrong! Four _anonymous _tips? We hardly ever get anonymous tips! People want the cash reward." Lassiter said nothing and continued to watch as Ron Turner was being cleared to go.

"Come on Carlton! Look," Juliet tore her eyes from the view in front of her to plead with her partner. "You and I both know that Shawn didn't do this. I mean…he's Shawn! He couldn't hurt a fly! This guy, this… Ron Turner, he's got guilty written all over him. His story doesn't make any sense and you know it. Why are we letting him walk out of here?"

Lassiter sighed and turned to Juliet. "Look… O'Hara… Maybe I don't think that Spencer did this. But that doesn't matter. This is exactly why the Chief doesn't want us on this case. We can't let our personal connection with Spencer affect our judgment. I thought we had something with Turner too, but he has an alibi. We can't get around that. With Spencer, we have prints on the murder weapon, prints on the body, DNA, five eyewitnesses, and he isn't responding to any of our calls. His dad hasn't seen him. Guster hasn't seen him. For all we know, he's halfway to Canada by now! Just think about it, O'Hara; if this was somebody else, somebody you didn't know, what would you think?"

Juliet's mouth was glued shut. She didn't say a thing. _Oh, God. He's right! _She thought to herself.

Seeing O'Hara's hesitation, Lassiter pushed forward. "It's time we stop trying to pin this on someone else, and start trying to find Spencer."

OooOooO

The two men waited until they were outside of the station before they started talking.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Walker growled, leading Turner down an alley next to the station. As he did this, Walker made sure to avoid being seen by his fellow officers.

"The detectives were starting to doubt that it's Spencer. They know him too well. I thought that an eyewitness account would compel them to arrest that stupid psychic." Turner defended himself.

"Well, why didn't you confer with me first? Why didn't you confer with any of us? And why did you come up with such a bullshit story? The cops are totally on to you now! I saved your ass back there!" Walker said, his voice was low and dangerous.

"Oh, so I report to you now? What about Todd and Lucas? Do they report to you too?" Turner spat back.

"Todd and Lucas are idiots. They'll follow anyone who talks to them."

"Where are they, anyways?" Ron asked.

"Out trying to find that damned psychic! He slipped past them last night. The two idiots were probably drunk during the stake out. He must've run because he knew the cops were looking for him." Michael said.

"Where to?"

"If I knew that, we wouldn't be trying to find him, would we?" Michael Walker's voice was steadily getting angrier and angrier. He took a deep breath to calm himself before turning back to his partner. "Look. We need to find Spencer, and find him fast. As soon as Todd and Lucas find him, they're going to call in an anonymous tip to the police. We have to move quickly. Spencer needs to be behind bars before Lassiter and O'Hara can find out that your alibi is bogus."

"Wait. There's one thing I still don't get." Ron Turner said.

"And what would that be?" Walker asked, obviously trying to keep his voice under control.

"If all we want to do is hurt Spencer, why don't we just kill him? I still don't get why we're going through all this trouble to get him arrested." Turner mused.

"I've told you a million times. We don't want to just _hurt _Spencer for what he did. We want to make him suffer."

**OooOooO**

**Yay for semi-cliffe! Yay for super-long chapters! **

**So, I don't think that this was the best chapter ever. I just felt like this story was going nowhere, so I advanced the plot. Sorry if it was super boring! Once again, I realize that this story is getting pretty confusing and complex. If you have any questions at all, I'd be happy to answer them. Just message me or ask in a review.**

**Another thing, we are SUPER DUPER close to the Shawn whump. I know that some of you wonderful readers are getting impatient. But don't worry. It'll be good. On that note, I'd be happy to take any request for the method of whumpage. I haven't decided what I'm going to do specifically yet, so I'm game for any ideas!**

**So, basically, whether you have compliments, constructive criticism, requests, ideas, questions, or pretty much anything at all, let me know! PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks so much! :D**


	10. Doesn't Feel Right

**Okay guys, FINALLY we have chapter 10! I know it took forever, but it's long! YAY! Please R&R. Thanks! :D**

**So, as I've been writing this, I've had to go back about every thirty seconds to check what's happened so far. This story is admittedly semi-complex and confusing. Don't be shy! If you have questions, ask!**

**OooOooO**

It was around two in the afternoon when Shawn finally pulled up to 1425 Bunker Hill Lane. Immediately he knew that the van was a fake.

The building in front of him could not possibly be a working cleaning company. That is, unless it had become customary for cleaners to work out of filthy, abandoned office spaces.

A piece of paper nailed to the door caught Shawn's attention. He glanced at it and saw the words "EVICTION NOTICE" in large letters across the top. It was dated February 21, 2010.

_It's no wonder this place didn't last. _Shawn thought to himself. _It's the middle of the day and hardly anyone's even around. Have these people never heard of location? _It was true. Shawn had surveyed the area and seen only a small group of kids and two men. The kids were playing jump rope and hopscotch outside of what Shawn could only assume was their apartment building. The men—more like teens actually: they couldn't have been over 21—were playing a rousing game of wall ball using a beaten tennis ball across the street. Nothing for him to worry about.

Out of the corner of his eye, Shawn saw large, peeling letters on the window next to the door. They identified the building as Pete's Cleaning Company.

_I've got to give it to these guys. They're smart. Really smart. _Shawn thought as the brilliance of these people's plan hit him. They chose a cover business that was shut down, but would still be in the yellow pages in case someone checked up on them.

Shawn tried the door and was surprised to find it unlocked. Checking to see that no one was watching him, he walked into the building.

OooOooO

"You're cheating!" Lucas shouted at his twin brother before pushing him roughly.

"Cheating? How can you cheat at this game you idiot?" Todd yelled, pushing back.

"You took a step! I called 'spot' and you took a step! You can't do that!" Lucas accused, once again pushing his brother.

"No I didn't!" Todd defended, pushing back.

"Yuh huh!"

"Nuh uh!"

"Yuh huh!"

"Nuh uh!"

Lucas didn't reply, but tackled Todd to the ground. The two brothers rolled around the ground, Todd in a headlock.

The sound of a motorcycle coming down the road caused both boys to forget their fight. They leapt off their spots on the ground.

"Didn't Walker say that the psychic drove a motorcycle?" Todd asked.

"Yeah! That must be him! I told you he'd come here." Lucas said smugly.

"Uh, no. I told you." Todd shot back.

"Nuh uh!"

"Yuh huh!"

"Nuh uh!"

"Shh! He's turning the corner!" Todd told his brother.

The twins resumed their game of wall ball, all the while arguing under their breath.

"It's him! It's him!" Lucas whispered as he saw their target take off his helmet.

"I'll call Walker!" Todd said excitedly.

"No you idiot! We can't give him reason to think that we're watching him. Just keep playing. We'll call once he goes inside." Lucas ordered.

"And how do you know he'll go inside?" Todd questioned.

"I'm a genius. That's how. Plus, I'm going to be the one to tell Walker that we found the psychic." Lucas said.

"Nuh uh!"

"Yuh huh!"

"Nuh uh!"

"Yuh huh!"

OooOooO

Juliet sat at her desk in misery. She'd called Henry. She'd called Gus. She'd called Madeline. Who else could she call? She was starting to realize that she didn't know Shawn all that well. They'd been to his house, Gus's house, Henry's house (telling Henry and Gus about what was going on was _not _a fun experience) and the psych office. They were still no closer to finding the psychic. The odd thing was that she didn't know if she was happy or upset about that…

Juliet was ripped out of her thoughts by her partner. "We've found him." He said as he passed her desk on the way out the door.

"Uh, what?"

Lassiter stopped and spun around to face her. "Spencer. We've found him." He said simply. Juliet was surprised to see that his expression was grim and… was that regretful?

"How? When?" She asked Lassiter.

"Just got a call in a few minutes ago. Some guys saw Spencer going into a deserted office space down in the ghetto part of town."

"Let me guess, the tip was anonymous." Juliet stated suspiciously.

Lassiter just shot O'Hara an annoyed look. "Maybe." He said.

Juliet raised an eyebrow. "What? Come on O'Hara! You can't keep doing this. Okay, I'll admit it's a little strange to have only anonymous tips. But right now we've got Spencer backed into a corner. We've got to act now!" With that he stomped off towards his car.

Juliet couldn't shake the feeling that Lassiter was still trying to convince himself. With a sigh she followed her partner. _This feels so wrong…_

OooOooO

Shawn searched every inch of the building. There was nothing. Not a single thing that could help him. He went through and triple and quadruple checked the small office space. Nothing.

"Damn it!" He yelled to the roof and kicked over a desk.

Then he heard the sirens.

Shawn ran to the dirty window of the building. "What the…"

The police were outside setting up a blockade. There were dozens of them with more arriving by the minute.

_What do I do? What do I do? WHAT DO I DO?_

OooOooO

"Is it really necessary for there to be this many officers here?" Juliet questioned her partner as they hopped out of the car.

"Don't ask me," Lassiter scowled, "_Walker _put this together." He spat out the other detective's name like a curse.

"This doesn't feel right." Juliet said for the millionth time.

"O'Hara—"

"No, Carlton! Listen to me!" She interrupted. "You keep saying that the evidence is all pointing towards Shawn, and maybe it is. But just take a second and forget the evidence. You _know _Shawn didn't do this. I know you do! Why are you pushing this so hard? For once in your life can you just screw protocol and pay attention to what you know is right?" Her voice was edging on screaming.

Lassiter stood looking like a fish out of water: his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. He was saved by, strangely enough, Michael Walker.

"Lassiter! O'Hara! Come on, we're going in!" He called over the heads of several black and whites.

Lassiter mumbled something under his breath but complied. Juliet sighed heavily and followed.

"Okay everyone," Walker was talking to all of the officers ready to apprehend Shawn, "Approach slowly; we don't want him to get jumpy and do something stupid."

Juliet rolled her eyes but followed along with the other officers.

"On three," Michael Walker said as they approached the glass door, "One… two… THREE!" He stepped to the side as one of the black and whites kicked open the door.

The next few seconds were chaotic and confused as the large group of people searched the area.

Juliet moved slowly and searched with a half-hearted effort.

And then she saw a hand.

_Of course. Of course I'll be the one to find him. _And sure enough, when she turned to see the other side of the desk, he was there. His hair was ruffled and his clothes were filthy. He looked like he'd hardly slept.

"I've got him!" She called regretfully.

Shawn simply stood up and looked at her. His gaze was intense. _Oh God. He can see my soul. _Wordlessly, he turned around and held his wrists behind his back. Juliet locked her handcuffs around his wrists, trying to hold back her tears.

She made her voice as un-feeling as possible, "Shawn Spencer, you are under arrest for the murder of Kathleen Fox."

**OooOooO**

**Sorry that a chunk of this chap was something you've seen before! It had to be done. **

**Good news! The whump is RIGHT around the corner. It'll probably start at the end of the next chap, but I make no promises. **

**More good news! SCHOOL'S OUT! Which means I can focus on writing without putting my entire future in jeopardy! Which **_**also **_**means that I'll be writing as long as I stay motivated. GUESS WHAT? You can help! Reviews keep me SUPER motivated. I haven't gotten too many reviews so far, but I'm sure that can change. Right?**


	11. Wanting

**Here's 11! Hope you enjoy! Please review! Thanks :D**

**Btw, this is supposed to be a bit OOC**

**OooOooO**

He couldn't talk his way out of this one. He couldn't just say something cute or clever or funny and make his problems disappear. He didn't even try.

_I am so screwed. Juliet just booked me. Jules. If she thinks I'm guilty this must be bad. Really bad. I'm going to jail. Oh, God. I'm going to jail! _His mind was racing. _There's nothing I can do. I can't stop this. This is happening and I can't do a damn thing. _

OooOooO

The Shawn Spencer that Juliet led to police car was unlike any she'd ever seen before. He was… quiet. His normally bright eyes seemed dead. His face didn't show so much as a hint of the goofy grin that normally occupied it. He looked… hopeless. It was like he just didn't care.

Juliet could feel her heart break for about the millionth time in the past few hours. Shawn wasn't supposed to look like this—He's Shawn!

_He can't be guilty. He just can't be. If he were why would he be acting like this? He looks like someone who has just had his entire world shaken for no good reason. _She felt the sympathetic side of her rising up—the side that wanted so badly for Shawn to be innocent. _Snap out of it O'Hara! If he's innocent you'll figure it out while you interrogate him. Do this the right way, the professional way._

OooOooO

He'd been on this side of the table before, but not like this. Shawn had never been in the position before where, if convicted, he'd go to jail for pretty much his entire life.

"It's weird, you know." He said quietly, staring down at the table. Juliet had just shut the door behind her when he spoke. She didn't say anything, but took the seat across from Shawn. "I've been so busy trying to prove myself innocent that I never considered the idea of going to jail."

There was nothing Juliet wanted to do more than run to the other side of the table and hold on to him tightly. But, as always, her professional side won out.

"So…" She began, clearing her throat, "are you aware of the charges against you?" Shawn nodded. Juliet noticed that he was avoiding making eye contact with her. "And you've waived your right to have a lawyer present?"

"I don't need a lawyer, Jules. I don't think that you're going to do anything too tricky." His eyes shot up to meet hers. Juliet was surprised at the sadness and anger she saw there. "But then again I didn't think you'd believe that I murdered someone, either." He snapped.

The quip twisted Juliet's heart, but she chose to ignore it.

"Mr. Spencer—" She began, but Shawn wasn't done.

"What is this, Jules? 'Mr. Spencer'? Are you serious? Don't act like that. Don't act like we're strangers—like I'm some scum from the streets that you picked up. We're friends, and I _know _that you don't believe that I did this." Shawn burst out.

Juliet was taken aback by the anger in Shawn's voice. She'd never seen him like this before. It was unsettling. "Shawn…" Her professional exterior was crumbling.

"No. No, Jules. You need to listen to me. I was set up. I don't know who is behind it. Not yet. I have some leads but I can't do anything about it if I'm locked up."

"I would suggest turning over these leads so that the police can—" Juliet said, attempting to regain her professional façade.

"So that the police can what? I don't have an alibi, Jules! You know where I was when Kathleen Fox was murdered? I was asleep. I was alone in my apartment sleeping. We're going to go through the interrogation and you're going to determine that I'm guilty and the case will be closed! My leads will be forgotten—filed away. The only way that I can show you that I'm innocent is by proving who is guilty." He was practically shouting now.

"What do you want me to do, Shawn? Do you want me to let you go? Well I can't do that. I'll go to jail. Is that what you want?" Juliet matched his volume.

Shawn was quiet for a moment as he registered what she said. "No." He said softly. "But think of this, Jules: If I can't prove my innocence I'll go to jail for 25 to life. Either that or I'll get the death penalty—this would be first degree murder, right?" Juliet flinched at the mention of the death penalty. "Is that what _you_ want?"

Juliet opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. The two just sat looking at each other for a good ten seconds before Lassiter burst into the room.

"How are we coming, O'Hara?" He asked, noticing the moment between Shawn and Juliet.

"Oh, uh," Juliet ripped her gaze from Shawn to her partner, "I was just informing Mr. Spencer of the risks of not having a lawyer present. You do understand, Mr. Spencer?"

Shawn returned to his former state: staring down at his hands and speaking quietly. "Yes _Detective._"

"I'll take it from here, O'Hara." Lassiter addressed his partner. He could feel the tension in the room and knew that it would be best if he did the interrogating.

Juliet shot him a surprised look but nodded. She stood up, keeping her eyes glued to Shawn. "I'll just go… get coffee…" She walked briskly out of the room.

Lassiter waited for the door to close behind her before he continued. "So, Mr. Spencer. You are aware of the charges against you?" Shawn nodded. "Have you ever come in contact with the victim?"

"Yeah, uh, she was a client. Her wallet was stolen." Lassiter blinked in surprise at Shawn's lack of smart-ass comments. _Wow, it's like it's not even Spencer…_

"Did you have any sort of conflict with the victim during the time she was your client?" Lassiter asked professionally.

"Nope. Wait, does the fact that she confused _The A-Team _with _M*A*S*H _count?" Shawn answered sarcastically. _Ops, there he is. _Lassiter thought.

Ignoring the comment Lassiter pushed on. "Where were you up until twelve a.m. on the morning of April, 10 2010?"

Shawn hesitated slightly. "Sleeping." He said heavily, knowing the consequences. Lassiter opened his mouth to speak. "And no, I don't have anyone to confirm this—not unless you want to talk to my dust bunnies. They're Indonesian, so they don't speak much English, but they're a reliable bunch." A ghost of a smile crossed Shawn's face. "Wow, Lassie. For some reason talking to you makes me loosen up. I just love seeing the barely contained fury on your face."

Lassiter rolled his eyes but otherwise ignored Shawn's tangent. "Do you have anything you can give us to prove your innocence? Or maybe at least give us reasonable doubt."

Shawn shook his head sadly. "I know someone's framing me, Lassie. I just know it. I've had some leads that have all been dead ends, but—"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Spencer," Lassiter interrupted, "but if you have nothing, I'm afraid you are under arrest." His voice sounded almost regretful.

"Wha-are you serious, Lassie?" Shawn's eyes were pleading with Lassiter.

"Please stand up. You will be held in the cell in the department for a few minutes until the prison transport vehicle comes to take you to jail. From there a trial date will be set. I'd suggest you get a lawyer." Lassiter led Shawn by the shoulder to his cell.

On the way, Shawn passed many of his co-workers. They all looked on to the scene before them in disbelief—Shawn Spencer being arrested? Shawn kept his head down and avoided everyone's gaze—well, almost everyone. He made sure to make eye contact with a certain blonde detective.

Juliet was sitting at her desk trying to busy herself with other work when Lassiter led Shawn past her desk. Shawn's eyes met her own and the hopelessness there made her want to cry.

_This is so not right. _She thought. _What he said was true: how can I sit by and watch an innocent man go to jail—especially when that innocent man is my friend? I have to do something. I have to help him! Screw protocol. Screw my job. I've been trying to stay professional for so long, I didn't realize that I was doing something I don't believe is right. Shawn's innocent and I know it. And I'm going to prove it. _

**OooOooO**

**Yay for the long chapter! I'm not sure about this, I don't think it's too good, but I'm kind of pressed for time. I'm going to camp tomorrow—well, today, it's 4:30 in the morning and I have gone to bed yet—so I wanted to get this out. **

**Speaking of which, I have bad news. There won't be another update for 3 weeks. Please don't kill me! And I SWEAR that the whump will start next. I wanted to put it in this chapter but I seriously have to go to bed. **

**I'll give you a clue, though: Prison transport vehicle hijacking. **

**Please review! It means a lot to me! **


	12. This Is What Else Can Go Wrong

**I'M BACK! Once again, I'm sorry for my little hiatus. But the good news is that it's not going to happen again until next summer, by which point I definitely plan on having this story finished. **

**LET THE WHUMP BEGIN! Please review! Thanks! :D**

**OooOooO**

When Shawn was a little kid his dad loved to buy him toy cars. Of course, his father being Henry Spencer, the cars were all different cars related to police work. There was a squad car, a crowd control car, and a dozen other types of cars for Shawn to play with. Out of all the little cars he had, Shawn's favorite was always the prison transport vehicle. There was just something so glamorous about it. Little Shawn would always picture himself sitting, guarding prisoners menacingly. A prisoner would always try to escape in his fantasies, but Shawn would always stop him like the great cop he was destined to be.

Never had he pictured himself being the one behind the gate, chained to his seat.

The only word that Shawn could describe his situation with was 'surreal'. Time seemed to be moving in slow motion. As Shawn was locked into the vehicle he could barely stop himself from screaming and crying to be let out. He was terrified and sad and angry and hurt all at the same time.

The inside of the vehicle was exactly as it was in the movies Shawn had seen. The back of the bus may as well have been a normal bus—seats were lined in twos, facing the front on both sides of a narrow isle. What separated this bus from normal buses was the metal gate dividing the back seats from a single row in the front as well as the driver's seat—well, that and the fact that there was an armed guard watching his every move.

Shawn felt his heart stop when the car started. This was it. This was the end of his life. He was going to jail for something he didn't do. _Funny how Gus's worst fear ends up becoming a reality for me. _He thought bitterly.

The ride to the jail wasn't long—only twenty minutes or so. It lay just outside of the city. Shawn resisted the urge to scream when he noticed the buildings thinning out as they entered a more rural part of town. _We're almost there. _

He had been to jail before to question people behind bars. Every time he went his pulse had quickened with excitement when the car turned onto the long road that stretched for the half-mile leading up to the prison. His pulse quickened this time too, but for a completely different reason.

Shawn could barely see the prison looming in the distance when the most unexpected thing he could imagine happened: the armed guard who was watching him whipped out a pistol. In one swift move he turned the gun to the front of the bus and shot the driver in the back of the head.

Shawn screamed aloud as blood splattered the windshield. His eyes widened in fear as he felt the bus veer off the road. The driver's foot was clearly still pressed down on the gas, because the vehicle shot off into the surrounding trees. Shawn was jostled roughly in his seat due to the unpaved ground for a moment before the car came in contact with a tree.

The car managed to skim the tree on the left side, lifting that side off the ground and causing the entire truck to balance precariously on the two right tires. Shawn screamed again in anticipation for what was about to happen. The entire van flipped completely on its side, the downhill slope caused it to continue rolling until it came to harsh contact with a tree.

Shawn, being only chained down by his handcuffs, was thrown about every which way. His head, legs, ribs and arms crashed painfully into the surrounding seats, the roof and the side of the car. Tears sprang into his eyes as he helplessly allowed his body to be brutally damaged by anything and everything in sight.

The crash only lasted about ten seconds, but it seemed like hours to Shawn. The vehicle's final resting place was completely upside down, leaving Shawn crumpled on the ground with his hands chained to the seat above him pathetically. He couldn't move, and it wasn't just because of his handcuffs. Every inch of his body was burning like he'd just jumped into a furnace. He definitely had a few broken bones—not to mention a concussion. He wanted to cry and scream but he couldn't muster the energy.

Shawn was on the verge of unconsciousness when he heard a noise. Someone was trying to get into the van. _Oh thank God. Thank God. I'm saved. _He was so happy he could cry—that is, until he saw who it was.

Two men burst into the bus holding guns. They definitely weren't cops. They looked familiar, he'd seen them somewhere before but he couldn't think where. He noticed that they were twins around the age of twenty. So familiar…

"Jesus, Todd. Would'ya look at this? I don't think the boss meant for it to be this bad…" One of the men said.

"I don't think he cares, you idiot. He said he wanted the psychic to suffer and look at him. He's suffering." The other said.

"Well duh. But he doesn't want him dead. He doesn't look too good. And what about Carl," He indicated the guard who shot the driver. He was out cold, bleeding profusely from a wound on his head, "he wasn't supposed to get hurt."

"Collateral damage." Todd (Shawn assumed that was his name) said carelessly. He reached down and picked up the pistol used to kill the driver off the ground. Todd wiped it off on his shirt and walked to the gate separating the front from the back. "If the guy didn't know what he was getting himself into he's an idiot just like you, Lucas. I wonder how much the boss paid him to do this, anyways.

"Now how do we get this gate open?" Todd asked, more to himself than anything. His eyes lit up. "Got it." He raised the gun and shot the lock off. "Perfect."

Todd walked over to where Shawn was and knelt down beside him. Lucas followed reluctantly—something that didn't go unnoticed by Shawn.

"I dunno, Todd. He looks pretty bad. Maybe we should call an ambulance…" Lucas said uneasily.

Todd stood and turned to his twin. "Are you crazy, Luke? If we back out now, Walker and Turner will kill us."

_Walker. Walker and Turner. _Shawn had a terrible realization. Where did he know those names from…

"We've got to do this and we've got to do this now. We don't want the cops catching us." Todd said with authority.

He raised the gun and for a moment Shawn was filled with cold fear _Oh God, he's going to shoot me. _Shawn breathed a sigh of relief when Todd raised the gun higher. He aimed carefully and shot the chain hooking Shawn's handcuffs the seat.

Shawn screamed in pain when his upper body hit the ground. Through blurred eyes he saw Lucas physically flinch at the sound.

"Let's just get him out of here." Lucas said.

Todd nodded. "Just one more thing." He wiped the gun off and took Shawn's hand in his own. Before Shawn could register what he was doing, Todd had pushed the gun into his hand, getting his fingerprints all over the weapon. Shawn dropped the gun like it was on fire.

"No…" Shawn groaned, understanding the plan. The pain and the fear grew to be too much for him. Lying pathetically on the ground, Shawn passed out.

**OooOooO**

**And so the whumpage starts. Don't worry, there's much more to come. **

**Trust me, I know this is confusing, but everything will make sense soon. Speaking of which, if you have any questions feel free to ask! **

**PLEASE REVIEW, GUYS! I'm writing two other stories at the moment—give me a reason to update this first! Thanks :D**


	13. The Bearer of Bad News

**Hola mis amigos! Miss me? Probably not. It's been like, a day. Well here's the next chapter anyways. It's super short, but it's an update. No complaints! **

**Please review, my friends! Thanks so much! :D**

**OooOooO**

Henry Spencer was fuming when he walked into the SBPD. As he barged through the hallways, yelling and screaming as he went, nearby officers made sure to stay out of the way.

"Where the hell is my son?" He bellowed as he threw open the door to Karen Vick's office.

"Henry, I'd suggest you calm down—" Karen attempted to soothe the raging father.

"Calm down?" Henry cut her off. "CALM DOWN? You're sending my son to jail for MURDER and you want me to calm down?"

It was times like these when Karen Vick really wished she didn't have glass walls: everyone in the entire station seemed to be tuning in to the argument.

"Look, Henry. I realize that this is hard for you, but—" Once again the chief was cut off.

"Oh really? You 'realize' that, do you? This is my _son, _Karen! You know Shawn. How could you possibly think that he could be capable of killing that girl?"

The anguish in Henry's eyes broke Karen's heart. The truth was that she really didn't believe that Shawn killed anyone. It's just that the evidence was too much. Though she'd kept her distance from the actual investigating due to conflict of interest Karen had kept an eye on things.

"Henry, I'm afraid that the evidence speaks for itself: we've got fingerprints, DNA, a recently confirmed shoe print, and a witness! Take a step back from being a father and think like a detective. Of course it's hard for you to believe that your son would do something like this, but do you think that the parents ever do?"

Karen could see Henry struggling to find his next words. "This goes beyond believing, Karen. This is about _knowing. _I know my son. I know what he's capable of. Shawn always hated going fishing with me when he was a kid because he hated the idea of killing a living being. Does that sound like a cold-blooded killer to you?" Henry wasn't shouting anymore, but his voice was low and dangerous—like he could snap at any moment.

Karen was relieved when a knock came from her door. It was Lassiter and O'Hara.

"Come in." Vick waved her two detectives in, grateful for the company.

Lassiter eyed Henry uneasily as if he didn't want to talk in front of him.

"He's okay." Karen said, clearly noticing her head detective's hesitations.

"I just got a call from county. Spencer's transport hasn't turned up yet." Lassiter's voice was laced with concern. Vick saw Juliet standing a little behind her partner. Her face was a mask of worry and anxiety.

"How long ago did they leave?" She questioned, suddenly regretting her decision not to kick Henry out.

"Thirty-five minutes ago." Lassiter said meaningfully.

Both Henry and Karen felt fear bubble up inside of them. "But it's only a twenty minute drive, even in traffic…" Karen pointed out. Lassiter and O'Hara both nodded, realizing the gravity of the situation.

"Then where the hell is he?" Henry burst out. The day was proving to be a dramatic one for the man.

The four stood in silence for a moment as they considered the possibilities. Karen had just opened her mouth to give her detectives orders when Buzz McNab walked into the room.

"Chief, I have some news on Shawn's transport…" Buzz trailed off, giving Henry the same look Lassiter had.

"He's okay." Vick said once more, annoyed.

"Well, they found it. It was in the trees, upside-down, a little off the road less than a mile away from county." Buzz paused hesitantly once again, clearly unhappy to be the messenger in this situation. "Shawn's guard is being airlifted to the hospital. He's in critical condition after the crash. The driver is dead—shot in the head…" McNab trailed off once again.

"What about Shawn?" Juliet piped up, the fear obvious in her voice.

Buzz took a deep breath. "He's gone."

**OooOooO**

**I know, I know. It's short. SORRY! But seriously, it's been like a day since my last update. The next one will be soon; it's just that I'm working on three other stories now, too. I'm not sure why. I guess I'm kind of a masochist. :/**

**Anyway, please review and tell me what you think! I'm posting this on both Psychfic and Fanfiction. You Psychfic people were AWESOME last chapter. Like, eight reviews. Fanfic? Not so much. Like two. I SMELL COMPETITION! Which ever website has more reviews will get the next chapter a day before the other! I'm not normally one for blackmail, but hey. I like reviews. Thanks! :D **


	14. Anxiety Kills

**Hola mi amigos! **

**So, Fanfic won 8 to 6. Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Please keep it up! Thanks!**

**OooOooO**

Shawn woke up in so much pain that he nearly passed out again. Every inch of his body ached from being thrown around the bus. His head felt as though someone had stuck a knife into his skull.

As the grogginess from just waking up wore off, Shawn had a chance to survey his surroundings. He was tied to a chair in a dimly light room—his position an unsettling reminder of his run-in with 'Garth Longmore.'

The room was bare—there was nothing other than him and the chair—and was about fifteen-by-fifteen feet. The floors were crafted out of wood that was starting to rot. The walls were a dull, dark grey, and a single door stood in the wall Shawn was facing.

The bareness of the room was making Shawn want to scream. There was nothing he could draw anything from. Nothing. He had no idea where he was, who had him there, or why.

Just as Shawn was coming to this realization the door burst open. One of the twins walked in smiling. It wasn't the kind of smile that lifted Shawn's spirits, though.

"Lookee here! The psychic is awake!" The man said, laughing. Shawn got a feeling that this wasn't the nice twin. He searched his memory for the name. _Todd. _He decided.

"What do you want from me?" Shawn wondered, too tired to think of anything clever to say.

"Me?" Todd jerked his thumb towards himself. "I don't want anything from you. It's the boss that wants you. Let's just say that he has some things planned for you. Some payback." Todd smiled evilly.

Shawn flinched at his words; his mind coming up with dozens of horrific possibilities.

"You've probably got another hour or so until he comes. His shift doesn't end until six." Todd shrugged.

Then the pieces began to fall into place.

_Walker and Turner. Those were the names they mentioned in the car. Walker… There's a detective named Walker at the station. What is it? Matt? Maurice?... Michael. That's it. Michael Walker. One of the shifts at the station runs from eight to six… _Shawn's mind was racing. _A cop is behind all this?_

OooOooO

Juliet was filled with apprehension as she picked her way through the trees to get to the crash site. She knew that Buzz said that Shawn wasn't there, but Juliet still couldn't get the picture of Shawn's broken body lying on the floor of the van out of her head.

As she grew closer she could hear Lassiter's voice echoing through the trees.

"The driver was shot straight through the head, causing the vehicle to lose control and enter the forest. The vehicle hit this tree over here—you can see the marks—and flipped, rolling completely upside-down." He was spitting out his theories as a flustered looking officer attempted to write everything down.

When the vehicle finally came in to Juliet's view, her heart stopped. The crash was devastating. _How could anyone survive that? _She wondered to herself. Just as she was thinking that, a team of paramedics wheeled a gurney past her. Juliet caught a glimpse of the person on it. _Carl. _She realized sadly. Carl was a new officer. A rookie. Juliet wasn't exactly friends with him, but he seemed like a good guy.

"Spencer hasn't been found yet." She overheard her partner saying. "The lock on the gate separating the front and the back, as well as the chain tethering Spencer to his seat have both been shot, allowing him to exit the vehicle. It looks as though Spencer somehow got a hold of a gun, shot the driver, and then freed himself, dumping the gun outside the van. We need to—"

"Are you kidding me?" Juliet said angrily across the small clearing. Lassiter spun around to look at his partner, a guilty look on his face.

"O'Hara. When did you get here?" He asked, trying to change the subject.

Juliet didn't bite. "You seriously think Shawn did this? Are you crazy?"

Carlton looked taken aback at his partner's tone, but kept up a professional front.

"Do you have any better ideas?" He challenged.

"Well… no. Not at the moment. But you and I both know that Shawn didn't do this. As if him murdering a young girl wasn't ridiculous enough, you're saying he killed a police officer? I don't buy it. Shawn could never kill a cop." Juliet said with certainty.

Lassiter seemed to realize that they were making a scene, because he grabbed Juliet by the arm and pulled her aside to a less crowded area.

"Look, O'Hara, I'm just doing my job. You should consider either doing the same or just going home, because—" Juliet cut him off.

"You really don't get it, do you?" Juliet said harshly. "This whole time you, and I, unfortunately, have been so caught up in following protocol that we haven't taken a second to think on a different level. Yes, I know that there is a conflict of interest, but shouldn't we take advantage of the fact that we know the suspect personally? We know him, and we know what he's capable of. I'm done trying to convince myself that Shawn did this, because I know he didn't. You should consider either doing the same or just going home because the both of us have screwed up this case enough."

Lassiter stood, frozen in shock at his partner's outburst, for a full ten seconds before slowly nodding.

Juliet took this as an agreement and pushed on. "So let's go figure out who is _really _behind this, and where the hell Shawn is."

**OooOooO**

**Sorry if Juliet is a bit OOC in this chapter. Just imagine her acting like she did in "The Greatest Adventure in the History of Basic Cable". I'm a fan of the tough Jules, so most of my stories involve her putting the guys in their place at some point. **

**Sorry this is short, but I'm tired and want to go to bed. Hopefully the next will be longer. There'll be tons of Shawn whump, too. **

**Please review, guys! Y'all were awesome last time! I'm doing the same thing this time. Whichever site gets more reviews gets the chapter sooner. Psychfic, are you going to let them win again? Fanfic, are you going to let the psychficers steal your title? **

**PLEASE REVIEW! THANKS! :D **


	15. Slow Learners and FunLovers

**Hello friends! Here we go with chapter quince. It's long! Hope you enjoy it! PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks! :D**

**OooOooO**

Michael Walker walked purposely through the hallways of the abandoned warehouse with one thing on his mind: Shawn Spencer.

"You! Where is he?" He demanded as soon as he came upon one of the twins. _Lord, why do they have to look so much alike?_

Taken off guard by his boss's sudden entrance the man hesitated a moment before he opened his mouth.

"Why are you hesitating?" Walker screamed. "Tell me where the hell he is!"

The man's eyes widened in obvious fear of his employer.

"H-he's right—" He started.

"Luke!" The man's twin came up behind him. "What's up?" Todd asked.

"'What's up' is that your Neanderthal clone doesn't seem to be able to put two coherent words together, that's 'what's up'!" Walker spat.

"Okay, man," Todd began, shaking his head, "I didn't understand, like, any of that. I dropped out in ninth grade, okay?"

"Oh, you don't understand? You don't UNDERSTAND? Well, let me explain for you." Unlike his twin, Todd seemed unfazed Michael Walker's threatening tone. "I have been waiting for five years to get my revenge on the SOB—FIVE years—and I don't want to wait for another second. So why don't you and your chromosomally challenged brother tell me where the psychic is?" Michael's face was red from anger. He had moved so his face was mere inches from Todd's.

Todd eyed him defiantly for a second before moving a hand to wipe Walker's spit off his face. "Dude. You need to chill. Your 'psychic'," he accompanied 'psychic' with air quotes, "is right down the hall. Last door on the right." Todd jerked his head in the right direction.

With one last glare at Lucas, Michael Walker took off down the hall.

When he reached the door he hesitated for a moment before throwing it open.

He stared at the unconscious psychic for a moment before walking over to him and slapping his cheek lightly and repeatedly. "Rise and shine, sunshine." He said when the psychic's eyes opened.

"Wh-where…" The psychic grumbled in the fog of sleep. Walker could see him struggling to remember where he was. _That's the concussion's doing. _He thought to himself. "Wh-why." Shawn wondered as he realized that he was tied to his chair.

"Psychic!" Walker shouted to get his attention.

Shawn's gaze snapped into focus. "Walker? What are you doing here? Where am I?" Walker picked up the faintest trace of fear in his voice.

"Think about it, Spencer. What's the last thing you remember?" Michael prompted, the annoyance evident in his voice.

Walker saw the other man squint and furrow his brow in concentration for a moment.

"There was a bus crash…then these two guys came and kidnapped me…then I woke up in this room…I remember him saying something about two guys…Turner and," Shawn's eyes widened, "Turner and Walker." He whispered. "You?" He accused. "You're the one who's been framing me? Why?" He demanded.

Detective Walker had to resist the urge to strangle the man right then and there, if only for his ignorance. "Don't worry, Spencer. You'll find out when Turner gets here." Walker said through gritted teeth. "In the meantime I'm going to have a little fun."

OooOooO

Shawn Spencer liked to think of himself as a brave person. Sure he often ran away in the face of danger while screaming like a little girl, but he was brave when he needed to be. All those times when a gun was pointed at Gus or himself he was able to take a deep breath and talk his way out of it. He could face death without flinching. Shawn Spencer was a brave person.

The maniacal glint in Michael Walker's eye wiped away every ounce of courage he had. _This guy really wants to hurt me. It's more than him wanting me dead: he wants me to suffer. _Shawn told himself. He could feel his chest tightening as panic threatened to overwhelm him.

"Be back in a sec." Walker told him before running out. True to his word, Michael was back within seconds. He carried a large black leather pouch with him.

"As a cop I've seen all types of crime scenes." He started to say. "I've seen kidnappings, shootings, drownings, murders, torture scenes…" Walker looked up at him meaningfully. "You'd be amazed at how fancy and high-tech some of these criminals get. Seriously, it's like they order a torture machine. A legitimate machine designed specifically for torture. Where would someone get one of those, anyways? It's not like you could just go to eBay. Anyways, I prefer to do things a little differently."

Walker shifted gears rather quickly and walked over to the door, sticking his head out into the hall. "Dumb and Dumber! Get in here and help me with this!"

Todd and Lucas complied, quickly jogging into the room. The two men each grabbed a side of Shawn's chair and dragged him to the wall farthest from the door. Shawn twisted in his seat and saw a chain loop hanging from the ceiling.

"Don't try any thing funny, Psychic." Lucas warned under his breath. Each twin grabbed one of his hands firmly, and Walker cut him free from the chair. The twins raised his arms above his head to reach the chain.

"He's too short, boss. He doesn't reach." Todd pointed out.

"He's too short? Do I have to do everything?" Walker grumbled under his breath. "Make him stand on his chair. "

Shawn groaned in pain as the twins—both of which were a good six inches taller than he—supported him under his arms and lifted him on the chair. They hand cuffed his wrists, running the short chain connecting the two wrists through the loop on the ceiling, and looked expectantly at Michael.

"What now?" Lucas asked after a moment of silence.

"What now? Take away the chair you morons." Walker said irritatedly.

"Does he always repeat everything that's said?" Shawn wondered aloud.

Walker glared at him before kicking the chair out from beneath him.

Shawn cried out at the pain of his arms abruptly taking his entire body weight, his toes a few inches above the ground. "Was that necessary?" He cried. "I don't know if you know this, but I've had kind of a rough day today and I'm a bit shaky physically." Shawn complained.

"Shut up!" Walker screamed. "Todd, Lucas, you can leave now." He said, not taking his eyes off of Shawn.

"Are you sure you don't—"

"GET OUT!" He screamed.

_This guys got a bit of a temper… _Shawn thought to himself.

"You know, you've got guts, Spencer, talking like that in your position." Walker's voice was low and dangerous.

"Really? I don't think so. I pretty much talk like that no matter what position I'm in: sitting, standing, maybe lounging—" Shawn was cut off by Michael Walker's fist connecting with his stomach, sending him spinning. He just managed to bite back a scream of pain as his entire body exploded in pain—most of it was probably the doing of the crash.

"You just don't get it, do you?"

"My dad always said I was a slow learner." Shawn's voice was laced with pain.

"Well you'd better learn fast." Walker growled as he walked over to pick up the previously discarded pouch. "Now that you're in a comfortable position I can continue." He said, pulling a large knife from the pouch. "I got this baby on vacation. This lovely couple was selling handcrafted knives in this little village I was staying in. It's one of a kind." He admired the weapon. "The husband spent his entire life sculpting these things. I wonder if it occurred to him that they could be used for violence…" Walker trailed off. He seemed to be fully engrossed by his blade, running his fingers over the sharp edge.

Out of nowhere he lashed out, cutting Shawn's arm. Shawn screamed in pain and shock. He looked over to see his sleeve beginning to turn red.

A terrifying smile crossed Walker's face. "This could be fun."

**OooOooO**

**And so the whump begins. Not to worry, children. There's much more to come. **

**I'm not sure about this chapter. It's really visual, maybe to the point of being annoying/boring. **

**Sorry it took so long! I feel terrible because y'all are so awesome with the reviews! It's just that my muse went on vacation. I tried like fifteen times to write this but kept coming up short. I hope it turned out okay!**

**And, by the way, this segments competition was a tie. Seriously. I was surprised. Great job, though! Same thing applies for this time! Whichever site gets more reviews gets the chapter first! Thanks so much!**

**PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks :D**


	16. Phil and Lil

**Hello friends! So, once again, I'm super sorry for the long wait. My schedule has been crazy busy with school starting up again and such. I apologize. To make up for it, this is like, the longest chappie I've ever written. Enjoy!**

**Please review, my friends! Thankya! :D**

**OooOooO**

Ideally, Juliet and Lassiter would have sped off after Juliet's little rant, analyzing every little piece of evidence and forming new conclusions that would clear their friend.

It didn't work like that.

There was a reason that Shawn was their only suspect: all of the evidence pointed at him. As if that wasn't already obvious, that also meant that none of the evidence pointed at any one else.

"Damn it!" Lassiter burst out, throwing a file down onto his desk. "There's nothing! Nothing points to anyone but Spencer." He gave O'Hara a meaningful look.

"No, Carlton! We've been over this. Look, that gun in the van had _only _Shawn's prints on it. It didn't even have Carl's. You know as well as I do that that's more than unlikely. If nothing else this confirms our suspicion that Shawn was set up." She told him firmly.

And the detectives continued their work. They poured over every scrap of information that they had—witness statements, background info, security cameras and more. There was nothing. Not a trace of evidence that they could work off of.

"Okay," Juliet sighed heavily, "We're getting nowhere."

"Really, now?" Lassiter commented sarcastically. He let out a huge yawn. Exhaustion was etched into both detectives' faces.

Juliet chose to ignore him. "It just doesn't make sense. We both know that everybody leaves behind _something. _There has to be some trace of this guy."

The partners were quiet for a moment before Lassiter spoke up. "Spencer's been MIA for ten hours. If you're right and he's innocent, chances are that he wasn't taken from that wreck willingly."

The partners exchanged a glance. They both understood the gravity of the situation.

"We've got to find him."

OooOooO

Waking up was always the worst part. When he was unconscious, Shawn ceased to feel pain. The dark oblivion was welcome to him. But when he woke up it all came back tenfold. It was sort of like swimming in a cold pool. The first time you jump in, the cold hits you like a physical force, draining all warmth out of your body. After a while you get used to the temperature—maybe it isn't comfortable, but it's bearable. Then you decide to get into the hot tub. The heat fills you with warmth, rejuvenating you. When you jump back into the cold pool, the freezing water is like daggers being plunged into you.

In the haziness of just waking up, Shawn was able to discern a lone figure standing in the doorway. The person's back was to him, but Shawn could tell it was one of the twins.

_But is it Phil or Lil? _He asked himself in his head.

_That doesn't make any sense, Shawn. _Gus pointed out.

_Gus? Wait when did Gus get here? _Hearing his best friend's voice in his head was definitely not a good sign.

_Why would you possibly relate those two goons to the innocent babies on "The Rugrats"? _Gus interrogated him.

_Isn't it obvious? Dude. I thought you were supposed to be smart. You went to college or something like that. _Shawn taunted.

_I went to a four-year college and got my PHD, Shawn. _Gus corrected him.

_Come on, Gus. Was it really necessary to make that correction? I basically said that. _

_By just saying 'college' you could mean a variety of different things that diminish my achievements, Shawn. I'm not letting that boat sail. _Gus said pompously. _Seriously, though. What do Phil and Lil have to do with this?_

_Haven't you been paying attention? Todd and Lucas are twins. Todd is evil. Lucas is nice. Come on, buddy. You're better than that. _Shawn explained.

_So? _Gus sounded confused.

_Ugh. Do I have to spell it out for you? Everyone knows that Lil is evil. Didn't you see that episode where she steals Tommy's screwdriver and pokes Chuckie's eye out? _

_That never happened, Shawn._

There was a pause where Shawn turned to look at his best friend. He wasn't there.

"Agree to disagree." He whispered.

"Shut up." A new, semi-familiar voice said harshly.

Shawn snapped back to reality.

"Phil or Lil?" He asked the twin in front of him.

"What are you talking about?" The man stuck his head out the door and looked both ways down the hall. "I don't know where Walker went. He left right after you passed out." He walked over to Shawn, bringing the chair with him.

"Do you plan on staying here for a while? If you do we should start a round of '99 bottles of deliciously flavored pineapple juice on the wall'. The farthest I've gotten is twenty three, but I bet we can set a new record if we keep at it." He remarked.

"Shut up." The man said again. "This isn't for me." He walked over and placed the chair beneath Shawn. He then guided Shawn's legs so that his feet touched the wood. Using every last ounce of strength that he had, Shawn pulled himself into a standing position, mercifully taking the strain off his arms.

He looked at the man below him. "Phil!" He cried happily.

"What?"

"Never mind."

The two were quiet for a moment.

"Wait, did you say that I passed out? When?" Shawn asked, Lucas's statement finally registering with him.

"I dunno, man. Walker was crazy. He wanted to hurt you bad. He cut you up like a paper shredder—trust me, don't look at your arms." Lucas told him, seeing that Shawn was about to check out the damage.

"What? Why?" Shawn asked, taken off guard.

"Well, you know how sometimes you'll get a paper cut or something and you won't even notice it until someone points it out, then it starts hurting?" Shawn nodded. "Well multiply that by like, thirty million. That's what would happen." 

"Fair enough." Shawn nodded. "You sound like you have experience in this kind of thing." He observed.

Lucas shrugged, plopping down into a chair on the far side of the small room. "I grew up in a bad neighborhood." He said vaguely.

"That's how you got involved with Walker and Turner." Shawn almost smirked in satisfaction when he saw the look of surprise cross Lucas's face. "Look Luke, can I call you Luke?"

"No."

"Look Lukie, I can tell that you're a nice kid caught up in some bad business and—" Shawn was cut off.

"Don't talk like you know me." Lucas said sadly. "I do this because I have to. If it weren't for Walker, Todd and I would be on the street scavenging for food. Our dad was killed in a drive-by when we were eight. Our mom's an addict. If your wondering 'to what?' the answer would be almost anything. We've been fighting since we were nine years old. Maybe we've gotten ourselves into some shady business, but it's better than being dead."

Shawn just nodded. He loved how open closed people were with people they didn't know.

"That's rough, man. But I can relate. When I was eleven 'The A-Team' was cancelled. It has emotionally scarred me to this day."

Shawn was surprised when Lucas merely chuckled and didn't even attempt at a retort.

"Come on, Lucas." Shawn said, completely serious. "This life isn't for you, man. You aren't cold blooded. I know you're not. If you were, why would you give me the chair?" He pointed out. "It's your brother, isn't it?"

Lucas looked at him bewilderedly. "How do you know that?"

"Oh come on, Lukie. I know that you know that I'm psychic. You said it yourself when you were talking earlier."

"Yeah, but I thought it was a hoax." He admitted.

"Well, you were wrong." Shawn said in mock offense. "You know it's ridiculous how little respect we in the mystic community get these days. There are just so many fakes who pop us and put doubt on the rest of us."

Lucas just shook his head and laughed. "I like you, Psychic."

"See! That, right there. I know you're a nice guy. If you're scared of Walker or Turner or your brother, there are people who will protect you from them. All you have to do is call the SBPD, ask for Detective Lassiter, tell him where we are, and then sit back and act innocent until they get here. Plus, man, if you're worried about going to jail, don't. I can totally vouch for you! They love me there!"

"I'm not scared of Todd. He's just…harder than me…this stuff doesn't bother him. It would be impossible to talk him down…" Lucas defended. He then seemed to be honestly contemplating the idea for a moment, though. Just when he opened his mouth to answer, a new voice came from the doorway.

"What the hell, Luke?" Todd stood, staring at the chair under the psychic's legs.

"Uh, I was just watching Spencer. The boss told me to." He explained half-heartedly.

"Don't play dumb on me, idiot. You know that's not what I'm talking about! Do you want to get us killed?" In one swift motion Todd crossed the room and kicked the chair from underneath Shawn's legs.

The weight abruptly transferred back from his legs to his wrists, stretching his upper body as well as his numerous contusions. The psychic detective screamed in pain as several of the cuts that were just beginning to crust over were reopened.

"What the hell, Todd? Was that necessary? I was just giving the poor guy a break. No one should just hang from their wrists all day! I don't know about you, Todd, but I didn't sign up to kill anyone." Lucas shouted at his twin.

_Wow. He really isn't afraid of him… _Shawn thought to himself.

"We're not killing him. We didn't touch him." Todd defended.

"No but we're standing by and watching. Is there really a difference?" Lucas said coolly. The brothers stood glaring at each other for a moment. Shawn smartly decided to shut up and see where the conversation went.

"Walker hired us to help him 'get revenge on someone from his past'. His words exactly. I thought we were going to steal or vandalize or something. Not kidnap, torture and kill. You know this guy's a cop, right?" Lucas ranted.

"Whoa, I'm definitely not a cop." Shawn insisted. Neither man heard him.

"Well, it's too late now. We back down and they'll kill us. They'll kill us and they'll kill mom. Maybe you're forever pissed at her, but I know you don't want that to happen. Not to mention the fat paycheck. We need the money, Luke." Todd told him.

"Have either of you ever considered waitering?" Shawn suggested. They ignored him.

"But at what cost, Todd? If we get caught we'll go to jail for our entire lives. Not to mention that no one will be around to look after Ma, so she'll probably die anyway." Lucas pointed out.

The two brothers resumed glaring at each other. Todd opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off before he started when they all heard a door slam.

"Oh crap." Todd said. "Turner and Walker are here."

**OooOooO**

**Okie doke. So I'm sorry if that was cliché. I can't help it. Most of my stuff seems to be. I also apologize for all of the rambling. It tends to happen when you don't plan ahead…**

**There is more Shawn whump to come, mi amigos! **

**Please review and tell me what you liked, didn't like, want to see, don't want to see, etc. I like to give you what you want to see, so I take it into account!**


	17. The Good, the Bad, and the Worse

**So, yeah. I'm a loser who didn't update. 'Nuff said.**

**I hope you like this chapter! It's a pretty packed one! Please review! Thanks! :D**

**OooOooO**

Something about that door slam was definitive. Final. It was as if death itself were approaching. Shawn didn't like it one bit.

He swallowed hard in anticipation of his two tormentors' arrival. Todd sprinted out of the room and Lucas moved the chair back to its original position. By the time the two men arrived into the torture chamber, Lucas was sitting, casually picking at his nails.

"Hey, boss." He said, trying to hide his guilt.

"Get out." Walker spat. When Lucas didn't move fast enough, the man grabbed him by his collar and forcefully threw him out of the room. Just before the door closed, Shawn caught Lucas throwing him a sorrowful, yet somehow determined look. _What is that kid up to? _He wondered apprehensively.

He didn't have long to think about it. Just at the door slammed shut the mysterious Ron Turner turned, allowing Shawn to see his face for the first time.

"Oh my God." Shawn whispered. It all came back to him.

_FLASHBACK_

_SANTA BARBRA, FOUR YEARS AGO_

"_Mr. Spencer." Chief Vick's voice came through the speaker of his phone. The line crackled on and off as Shawn walked through places of good and bad reception. _

_He was on the beach. It was around noon. _

"_We have a case for you." The Chief announced. Shawn felt his pulse quicken with excitement at the sound of his favorite words. _

"_A young woman by the name of Kelsey Mitchell was found murdered Tuesday morning. My detectives have yet to come up with a viable lead." Karen explained. _

_Shawn remembered walking into the station thirty minutes later, being led by Juliet._

"_Who's that?" He questioned as he passed a depressed-looking man in the waiting area. As if knowing that he was being talked about, the man glanced up and made eye contact with Shawn. The man had startlingly blue eyes and messy, jet-black hair._

"_That's Ron Mitchell. He's the victim's husband." _

_END FLASHBACK_

"Mr. Spencer, I'd like to introduce you to my good friend, Mr. Turner." Walker said, his voice cruel.

Shawn chuckled.

"What?" Turner asked harshly. "What are you laughing about, Psychic?"

"Why do you even do that?" Shawn wondered.

"Do what?" Turner spat.

"Why do you pretend that I don't know who you are? Ron Turner, man? Really? Come on. I know you can do better than that."

"I thought you said that he wouldn't recognize you!" Walker whispered harshly to his partner.

"He shouldn't! He can't! It's been four years!" Turner defended himself.

"Oh, come on man! I'm psychic. I know you know that. You just said it yourself. Why do I keep having this conversation?" Shawn asked himself.

"He's bluffing." Turner said with confidence.

"Oh, am I, Mr. Mitchell?" Shawn smirked.

"Or not." Ron's voice was suddenly quiet.

"I'll tell you what, this whole 'falsely accused/kidnapping' thing had really gotten my psychic panties in a twist. But something about the air here is just clearing it up so nicely." Shawn took in a huge breath, as if sucking in all the information that he possibly could. "Your wife was killed four years ago. Shot in the head."

"Yeah." Ron's voice was low in dangerous. "They told me they'd solve it. 'We've got a psychic on the case' they said. 'He's the best we can get' they said—"

"Really? They said that?" Shawn interjected. He was ignored.

"—'We'll find the killer' they said. They lied! They all lied. You didn't find him. You couldn't. You let her down, and now you're going to pay."

"Is that what this is about, man?" Shawn tried to soothe the man, but knew it was hopeless. That case still haunted _him _to this day; he couldn't imagine what it was like for the victim's husband. "You've got it totally wrong. I was never officially hired on that case—"

"LIAR!" Turner screamed and suddenly there was a gun at Shawn's chin. _And I thought that Walker was the one with the anger management issues… _Shawn thought to himself.

"Hold on there, Turner. We don't want him dead yet." Walker intervened, taking the gun away from the man.

As Walker moved closer Shawn looked him over. He saw his light brown hair, his square jaw, the cleft in his chin and his dark brown eyes.

"She was your sister." Shawn stated in awe. _How could I have missed that? _

Walker looked at him, surprised. "You are psychic, aren't you?"

"It's a gift. One I struggle with every day."

The three men were silent for a moment.

"I'm sure you've deduced, Spencer, why you're here." Walker stated.

"Of course I have. I'm not an idiot. Tomorrow's game day and you want my famous pineapple-buffalo wings recipe." Shawn replied sarcastically.

"Haha. That's cute." Turner smiled at him before throwing his fist into his abdomen. Shawn cried out in pain as the big man's hand connected with his tender flesh.

"I see that jokes are a no-go." Shawn spluttered.

"Shut up, Spencer." Walker advised him.

Turner looked disturbingly gleeful. "I've been waiting so long to do that." He said happily before throwing another vicious punch at the psychic's midsection. And so it went. Blow after blow were thrown at Shawn's already battered body. He cried out in pain, each time more anguished than the last.

As Turner threw one last punch, Shawn felt one of his ribs give, followed by a blinding pain as he felt the bone pierce his lung. The world once again faded to black.

OooOooO

Lucas didn't know what to do. He wasn't expecting this—any of it. He wasn't cut out for this. The twenty-year old had seen plenty of violence in his life, but this? This was too much.

A war was being waged in his mind. Did he help the psychic? The sound of an anguished scream from the nearby room made up his mind for him.

Lucas whipped his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a now-familiar number.

"You have reached the SBPD Crime stoppers, what is your tip regarding?" A way too perky receptionist's voice came through the receiver.

"I have some information on the whereabouts of an SBPD employee." He told the receptionist nervously. Why was his throat so dry?

"And the name of this employee?"

"Shawn Spencer."

**OooOooO**

**So maybe I was lame and didn't update for forever, but at least there was plot development, right? Right?**

**Where do you guys want this story to go? Who should live? Who should die? Most importantly, should there be Shules? LET ME KNOW! PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks! :D**


	18. And You Thought Highschool Drama Was Bad

**You all had better love me right now. Seriously. I have three quizzes tomorrow, but I chose to update anyways because y'all are so awesome. Anyways, I hope you like it! PLEASE REVIEW MY WONDERFUL FRIENDS! :D THANKS!**

**OooOooO**

News that a receptionist was on the phone with someone who had info on Shawn spread through the station like gossip spread through a high school. The chain went pretty much like this: Jessica, the receptionist, shouted "There's news on Shawn!"; Jimmy, a nearby custodian, heard and told Alex, a patrol officer; Alex told Jack, another patrol officer; Jack told Clara, the biscuit lady, who told Buzz; Buzz told pretty much everyone else. Within thirty-five seconds of Jessica answering the phone, Chief Vick was notified.

Upon hearing this, Karen bolted from her office to the front desks, grabbing the phone from Jessica and saying, "This is Karen Vick, chief of police. I hear you have news on my psychic."

The voice on the other end of the line hesitated for a moment. "Uh, yeah. What happened to the other lady, I was sort of explaining it to her already…"

It was a male, Karen noted. Younger than she would have expected. "Never mind that. I'd like you to tell me everything you can." Karen requested in a demanding tone.

"Look, I don't have a lot of time. The psychic is hurt pretty bad. He's not dead, but he will be soon." As if to reinforce the young man's words, a pained scream was heard in the background. Karen flinched. There was no doubting the origin. The scream was long and drawn out, before stopping abruptly. There was an ominous silence followed by a definitive door slam. "Crap, they're coming. Hold up."

Vick heard a rustle, as the cell phone was obviously smashed into the owner's pocket. Nothing but muffled voices were heard for a moment.

"Okay, he's gone." The voice was back.

"Who? Who is 'he'?" The chief questioned.

"No time. Look, I didn't sign up for this, okay? I don't want Shawn to die. We're at a warehouse near the docks. The address is 2404 Westview. Three armed, but I'll make it so that it's two."

"Thank you, sir. What I need now is for you to get out of there—" Karen insisted.

"I can't. I won't leave Shawn here. If you don't get here soon I'm going to have to figure something out…" The man trailed off.

"No, sir. Listen to what I'm—" Vick interjected.

"Just hurry." With that the call was ended.

Wasting no time, Karen spun around and started shouting orders. "McNab! Grab Dawson, Johnson and anyone else you can find. I want at least three cars down at 2404 Westview stat!"

"What is it, chief?" O'Hara stood feet away from her. The detective was clearly trying to eavesdrop.

"We've got info on Mr. Spencer." She said simply.

"Good news or…" Juliet asked uncertainly.

"Well, we'll find out soon, won't we? Grab Lassiter and get to 2404 Westview." Vick ordered.

OooOooO

"He's out. Way to go." Walker chastised his partner. "Now we have to wait until he wakes up."

"No we don't." Turner shook his head impatiently. "Smelling salts. I've got some back in the other room."

"Well go get them, you idiot." Walker shoved Turner towards the door.

Anxious to continue, Turner sprinted through the halls and into the makeshift kitchen area.

"What the hell are you doing?" He spat at Lucas, who spun around guiltily with his hands in his pockets.

"N-nothing." Lucas spluttered. "I'm just keeping watch like the boss said."

"Fine then." Turner yelled unnecessarily. He yanked open a drawer and pulled out a package of smelling salts.

"What are those?" Lucas wondered.

"What do you think they are? They're smelling salts you idiot! The psychic's out, but I'm not close to being done yet." The older man smiled evilly and dashed back to the torture chamber.

Wordlessly Ron approached Shawn, cracked open the small package and held it under the unconscious man's nose.

The two captors watched silently as the younger man came to.

Shawn blinked a few times, grimacing at the returning pain, before opening his eyes completely.

"Aww, come on, man! You can't even let me be in my unconsciousness?" He complained. "Walker, you should change your name. Chuck Norris is a lot nicer then you."

"Very funny, Spencer." Michael Walker said. "Unfortunately that isn't going to help you much."

"Nope. Not much at all." Turner agreed, taking off his belt.

Shawn saw the blow coming a second before it did. He screamed in pain as the belt lashed at him, moving across his skin painfully. The ripped remnants of his shirt did little to mute the pain—especially as the belt buckle hit him mercilessly.

"This could be fun." Turner grinned.

OooOooO

Lucas was never one to wait. When his dad was still alive he would always say: "Come on Luke! What are you doing, boy? We Damianos don't wait in line!" That's when it started. At first he couldn't wait in line. Then he couldn't wait to find out what Santa brought him—he snuck into his parent's closet and found out. Now he couldn't wait for help.

"What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?" He murmured restlessly under his breath.

He had to help Shawn. He just had to. Lucas's urgency was doubled when another scream filled his ears.

The young man searched around frantically. And then it hit him. Grabbing a paperclip off of one of the files Walker brought over from work, Lucas sprinted to the other side of the warehouse.

"The police are here!" Lucas shouted as he burst into the torture room.

"What?" Both Walker and Turner shouted, Turner with his arm raised above his head, belt clutched in his grip.

"The police! They're right outside! They have their sirens off, but they're surrounding us!" Lucas explained urgently.

"What do we do?" Turner asked Walker frantically.

"Why are you asking me?"

"You're the cop!"

"We run." Walker decided.

"Grab the psychic." Turner ordered.

"No time." Lucas persisted.

The conflict going on inside of Turner was shown clearly on his face. "No! I've waited too long for this! I'm not leaving him here." Turner screamed madly.

"Shut up you idiot!" Walker grabbed his shoulders and shook him none too gently. "We don't have a choice. He's suffered enough. Chances are he'll be dead soon anyway." Grabbing Turner's upper arm, Walker pulled him along and out the door. Turner's cries of protest were heard as he was pulled along.

Shawn watched the entire exchange with wide eyes. He opened his mouth to speak as soon as the two villains exited, but his snarky comment was lost as Lucas cut him off.

"We don't have much time." He said urgently, dragging the chair in the room over to the hanging psychic. "I've got to get you out of here."

"W-What are you—" Shawn stuttered.

"The cops aren't here. I lied. I couldn't let them kill you, Shawn." Lucas explained, helping Shawn stand up on the rickety surface. He then pulled himself up next to him and began picking the handcuffs with the paperclip.

Shawn stared at the young man open-mouthed.

"Ah, man…"

"No. You were right. I'm not a killer. The police are on their way but I couldn't wait. I'm one of the reasons you are in this mess. I'm going to get you out." Lucas said determinedly.

With a resounding click the handcuffs became unlocked. Shawn subsequently collapsed, his legs weak, bringing himself and Lucas tumbling onto the ground.

"Sorry." He apologized meekly.

"Don't worry about it, man." Lucas assured him, helping him onto his feet. Shawn leaned heavily on the younger man as they prepared to flee.

"Luke?" A confused voice came from the door.

"Todd." Lucas looked defiantly at his brother.

"Wha-why?" Todd wondered.

"This isn't us, man. We're not killers. I'm not, and I know you aren't, either." Lucas pleaded his brother. "I won't ask you to help me, but please don't stop me. "

Todd edged further into the room. "I-"

Todd never finished his sentence, as fourth voice made itself known.

"What the hell?" A very angry Ron Turner asked furiously from the doorway, clearly having broken away from Walker.

"Crap." Shawn mumbled, rolling his eyes. "Can I not catch a break?" He cried, looking to the sky.

"What do you think you're doing Damiano?" Turner screamed at Lucas, drawing his gun from his hip.

"Whoa, man. You're a bit jumpy, aren't you?" Shawn attempted to talk him down. "You said you wanted me brought along. Lukie here was doing just that. You should give him a bonus. Or just a pineapple. In my experience, the fruit of the gods is much more satisfying then—"

"Shut up Spencer!" Ron yelled. He turned his attention back to Lucas. "I knew you were playing us. I just knew it. You're going to pay for this, kid."

A single shot split through the air. A second later a body hit the ground.

**OooOooO**

**Mwahahahaha! EVIL CLIFFE! Here's a hint: The cops haven't shown up yet. I know I'm going to have people saying, "Oh, Lassie or Jules must've come and shot Turner". It isn't so, my friends. **

**NOW A MATTER OF GUBERNATIONAL IMPORTANCE!**** I need help choosing my next Psych story. Here are the choices:**

**Sins of the Psychic—Shawn suspects Juliet's boyfriend/fiancé of being a serial killer. Everyone thinks that he's just jealous. Is he? Or will his friends end up wishing they believed him? I plan on finding some way to incorporate the 7 deadly sins. **

**A Little Birdie Told Me—There is a serial killer on the loose. The catch? He tweets his actions and location in real time. The police and Shawn still can't catch him. Work in progress. It sounds boring, but I promise it won't be.**

**Both will likely have Shules and Whumpage. I'll do both eventually, but I can't decide which to do first.**

**Anyways, please review and tell me which you want to see! Whichever has the most votes will be first. I'm pretty sure what y'all will choose, but I still want your input!**

**PLEASE REVIEW AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK. Apparently most of you like Lucas, you don't want me to kill him, do you? Yes. This is a threat. ;)**


	19. Adrenaline

**Yay for chapter 19! This one's long. Seriously. Like, the longest chappie I've ever written. You're welcome. **

**Thanks to all you reviewers! Keep it up! :D**

**OooOooO**

"Drive faster!" Juliet O'Hara yelled at her partner for the fourteenth time.

"O'Hara," Lassiter kept his voice controlled and even, "I'm going as fast as I possibly can. We're not going to help Spencer if we crash and die." He pointed out.

Juliet grumbled and sat back in her seat. Lassiter could see the worry etched in her face.

"I'm sure he's fine," Lassiter said simply, but his voice betrayed the fact that he didn't believe that the psychic was anything close to fine.

O'Hara chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah. And I'm going to be the first woman President."

There was a loud honk as Lassiter swerved to avoid a car. "Damn Smart Cars. I can never see them coming. I hope all you midgets in Santa Barbara are happy. We should arrest them for obstructing justice…" The detective mumbled nonsensically under his breath.

He turned back to his partner, who was unfazed by his overreaction. "Seriously, O'Hara. What's with you? Up until now you've been gung-ho to find Spencer, and now you look like you've given up hope."

Juliet looked at him. Her eyes were huge and shining. "What if he's dead?" She whispered, voice full of fear.

Carlton sighed. "He won't be."

"No. No, really. What if he is dead? What if he's dying? What if he's in pain? It'll be all my fault! I should've listened to him. I should've helped him. I should've—" Juliet's voice got higher and louder to the point of hysteria as she talked. Her eyes glistened with barely restrained tears.

Lassiter cut off her rant by placing his right hand over her left one on the center consol. "You did. You did listen to him. You did help him." He soothed.

Juliet was shocked to silence by her partner's comfort for a moment, before shaking her head vigorously. "Don't say that. I didn't. I knew he was innocent, but I arrested him anyway. If I had trusted my instincts, I never would've put him in that car and he'd be okay now. If he's hurt or if he dies, it'll be my fault."

OooOooO

"You're going to pay for this, kid." Turner screamed, cocking his gun.

Lucas squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for the blow. At the sound of the shot, he let his body go weak reflexively, collapsing in a heap on the ground and pulling Shawn down with him.

A second later his eyes snapped open. There was no pain. Why was there no pain? Lucas patted his torso up and down, checking for holes. None.

Shawn groaned from beside him. _Oh God. _He thought in panic. "Shawn? Are you okay, Shawn?" He asked frantically, thinking that the psychic had taken one for him.

"Just peachy," Shawn grumbled. Upon further examination, Lucas saw that Shawn, in fact, hadn't been shot at all.

"Then what…" His words were lost as he looked up and saw the dead body of Ron Turner, and his brother with his gun still raised.

"Todd?" Lucas wondered weakly.

Todd suddenly dropped the gun as if it were on fire and lowered a shaky hand. He turned haunted eyes to Lucas.

"I couldn't let him kill you. I didn't…I didn't mean… I didn't want to…" Todd sucked in a ragged breath. "I couldn't let him kill you."

The two brothers simply looked at each other for a moment. Lucas nodded. "Thanks," he said. And that was that.

Somewhere in the warehouse a door slammed. "Police?" Todd suggested hopefully.

"They would've announced themselves. And frankly, we're not that lucky. It's gotta be Walker," Shawn said, rolling his eyes. "This is because I didn't tip my waitress at lunch two days ago, isn't it?" He wondered, raising his eyes to the sky.

"We've got to get out of here," Lucas said urgently. The two brothers positioned themselves on either side of the psychic detective and helped lift him up.

"I can walk," Shawn insisted.

"Come on, man. You've got a punctured lung. We may not be smart, but we're not stupid," Todd pointed out. Shawn raised an eyebrow.

"I'm starting to see the family resemblance," He said. The twins just rolled their eyes.

Slowly the three men progressed down the hall.

"How much farther is it?" Shawn whined. Todd and Lucas looked at him in annoyance. "What? It's not like I could judge the distance as they dragged me down this hall unconscious."

Lucas shrugged as if to say 'fair'. "Not much. We just have to—"

An angry yell from down the long, winding hall cut him off. "SPENCER!" A furious sounding Michael Walker screamed.

"My guess is that Walker just found his dead friend," Shawn pointed out the obvious.

"Wow, you're good at this detective stuff," Todd said sarcastically.

The trio heard a door slam, and faint footsteps that were heading their way.

"We don't have much time," Lucas said worriedly.

Shawn's eyes quickly darted around the hall. The warehouse we like a maze. There was one long, winding hallway with several doors leading to large workshops and storage facilities.

"Holy pineapple this place is huge," Shawn mused. He continued to search for a way out. "How do we get out of here?"

"This hall turns left then right then right again and there's an exit," Todd reeled out easily.

The psychic detective did a quick estimate in his head. "There's no way we'll get out of here at this rate." Shawn swallowed hard. "You have to leave me."

"What?" The twins said simultaneously, their steps faltering for the first time.

"Just let me off at a side room and run. I'll be fine," Shawn insisted. "Walker will kill you if you don't."

"We're not leaving you, man," Lucas said firmly.

"But—" Shawn's sentence went unfinished as gunfire erupted down the hall.

"Get back here!" Walker had turned the corner at the far end of the hall. More gunfire peppered the walls.

Shawn, Todd and Lucas all scrunched up, trying to make as small a target as possible.

Todd pulled his gun from his belt. "Keep moving," he ordered his brother, moving so that Shawn shifted his weight on the other twin. "Don't worry, I'll be right behind you."

Lucas nodded, understanding the importance of cover fire. He and Shawn hobbled down the hall at an even slower pace than before, with Todd right behind.

They turned left and had a brief moment of relief from the gunfire. Shawn and the twins moved as fast as they possibly could, all the while knowing that Walker was closing the gap between them rapidly.

The next corner was barely fifteen feet away. Once they got there they'd have one more sort hallway before they reached the exit.

Shawn released a breath of relief once they turned the corner, one that was quickly sucked back in when he heard a cry of pain from behind him.

"Todd!" Lucas was screaming. His concentration broken, both he and the older man tumbled onto the ground, him being overwhelmed by the weight of his load.

Lucas quickly sprang to his feet and ran to his brother. Shawn's vision was fuzzy from the pain of falling, but he could make out a limp hand peeking out from around the corner. He squeezed his eyes shut. _Please no, please no, please no. _

Lucas grabbed his brother's wrists and dragged him around to the safe side.

"Come on, man. Stay with me," He pleaded with his brother. The gunshots continued, marking Walker's progress up the hall.

Todd groaned. The bullet had entered through his lower abdomen and went straight through; not a death sentence, but they still needed to get him out of there. "You're gonna be okay," Lucas said, peeling off his jacket and applying pressure to the wound. Shawn could see the barley-contained tears in Lucas's eyes.

"Luke…" Todd groaned softly. He lifted his hand that still clutched his gun. "I know you don't want to, but if you don't we'll all die."

Lucas looked at his brother horrified, then nodded. He grabbed the gun. "I've got this."

"No," Shawn cut in. "I've got this." Still lying on the ground, he held out his hand for the gun. He didn't want Lucas to have to deal with shooting a man. 

"You're kidding, right?" Lucas asked skeptically.

"Come on, dude. That would be the least-funny joke ever. I'm above that."

"You can't even stand," Todd pointed out.

"You don't have to stand to shoot. Look, we have about twenty-five seconds before Walker gets down this impossibly long hallway. Give me the gun, or we'll all die," Shawn snapped back.

Lucas sighed and peeked around the hallway. "Longer. Looks like Todd shot him in the thigh."

"Ha," Todd laughed triumphantly, "I got him."

Shawn dragged himself closer to the corner. It was only about two feet away, but the pain was still unbearable. He followed Lucas's line of sight and sure enough, there was Michael Walker, hobbling along with blood trickling his leg. "You're right. Just barely nicked him. Amazing what adrenaline can do," he mused. Walking with a bullet through your leg couldn't be easy.

Bringing up his arm to aim his newly acquired gun at Walker, Shawn said loudly, "Stop this man. Turn back. Don't come any closer and I don't have to shoot you."

"You killed my sister. You killed my brother in law. I'm not letting you get away, Spencer," Walker's angry voice replied.

"Are you crazy, dude? I didn't kill either of them. Man, you've got to pay better attention."

Walker was about twenty-five feet away.

"You'll pay," Walker growled.

"Wow," Shawn said to the twins, "this guy is clearly disturbed."

Twenty feet.

A sudden loud knocking was heard at one of the numerous entrances of the warehouse.

"SBPD!" A voice yelled. Shawn's heart rose at the sound. There was a loud slam as the door was kicked down. "SBPD!" The voice yelled again. With the way the sound echoed in the massive warehouse, it was practically impossible to tell where the police had entered.

"We're here!" Shawn screamed as loudly as he could. He glanced at Walker. Fourteen feet. "Hurry!" He really didn't want to have to shoot this guy.

Shawn could hear a shuffling, but was unable to tell if the police had heard him. He turned back to Todd and Lucas.

"Lukie. There's a door right there. Go into that room and shut the door. Take Todd with you," He ordered.

"I don't—" Lucas started uneasily.

"What if I miss man? Todd won't be able to run," Shawn pointed out.

Lucas glanced between the psychic and his brother, who was starting to slip into unconsciousness. He nodded. "Don't miss."

Shawn smiled. He looked back at Walker as Lucas dragged his brother into the nearby room. Twelve feet.

With a deep breath, Shawn pulled himself farther away from the protection of the wall and out into the hallway. He gave himself more room to maneuver and exposed himself at the same time. The psychic detective started to shoot. He didn't shoot to kill—he didn't even shoot to hit-he just shot around the villain to deter him from continuing.

Walker began to shoot as well; only he _was _shooting to kill.

"Ah!" Shawn yelled, bringing his arms up to cover his head. Worry began to fill him. Not only did he not know if he was capable of killing Walker mentally, but also physically. He could barely hold a gun up, not to mention aim.

"Maybe this wasn't the greatest idea," He whispered to himself.

Walker was nearly upon him when he heard a glorious sound. "SBPD! Freeze! Drop your weapon and put your hands in the air!"

"Lassie!" Shawn cried in joy.

His excitement was short lived. Five feet. Regretfully, Shawn lifted his gun with a burst of painful energy. He aimed at Walker's shoulder and pulled the trigger. _Click. _The sound of the empty magazine stopped Shawn's heart. "Damn it," He muttered.

Walker smiled a terrifying smile. "Looks like fate is on my side." He grabbed Shawn's collar using his free hand and hoisted him to his feet.

Walker wrapped his arm around the fake psychic's neck and positioned him in front of him, acting as a human shield between him and the approaching detectives. A gun was shoved against Shawn's temple.

"Make one more move and he's dead."

The police—this group comprised of Lassiter, Juliet, and two other officers—stopped in their tracks.

"Really man? Let's be a bit more cliché please," Shawn said sarcastically.

He met Juliet's gaze and flashed her a reassuring smile. The blonde detective was clearly distraught at Shawn's position as well as his condition. He hadn't looked in a mirror recently, but Shawn was fairly certain that he didn't look too good.

"Shut up!" Walker scowled, tightening his grip around Shawn's neck.

"Walker?" Juliet's confused voice asked. "You? But why? Why would you do this?" Betrayal was clear in her tone.

"Oh, I'm getting something!" Shawn exclaimed, trying and failing to raise his hand to his temple. He was unable to resist the urge to put on a show, even in his current situation.

"It's a name. Kelly. No! Katie. No! Kelsey. Yes, Kelsey. Kelsey Mitchell."

"Shut up!" Walker yelled again.

"That girl that was murdered like four years ago?" Lassiter wondered.

"How do you remember that? And yes. Anyways, Kelsey's maiden name was Walker. As in Michael Walker." Shawn heard Juliet gasp. "Yes, Mr. Walker here was poor Kelsey's older brother."

"Shut up!"

"When Kelsey's case went unsolved, Walker and Kelsey's husband, Ron, were furious. They felt betrayed and angry. Sort of like Hannibal when he found out that Morrison was the one that set him up." Lassiter and Juliet looked at him incredulously. "What? Can I not like the show and the movie?" Shawn gasped loudly. "Wait! I'm getting something else. Kathleen Fox. She was an amateur actress. Walker and Ron Mitchell, aka Ron Turner, hired her. They had her pretend that her wallet was stolen so she could come into Psych. They wanted to create an undeniable connection between the two of us."

"Shut up!" Walker practically screamed, shoving his gun harder into Shawn's skull.

Shawn ignored him. "After that I'm sensing violence. Yes! A murder! Mitchell murdered poor Kathleen Fox in her own home, and then framed poor me for it! He wanted to discredit and humiliate me before making his real play."

"I said SHUT UP!" Walker screamed. Shawn saw fear flash over the two detective's faces.

"Drop the gun!"

"Drop it!"

Lassiter and Juliet yelled at the same time, seeing the crazed look in Walker's eye.

_Oh God, he's going to kill him. _Juliet thought in helpless horror.

Walker was about to pull the trigger when a loud thump was heard. The man's eyes rolled up into his head and he pitched forward, falling on top of Shawn, unconscious.

Shawn cried out at the pain of being sandwiched between the heavy man and unforgiving ground.

"Shawn!" Juliet called out in distress, closing the gap between them as fast as she could.

"What the?" Shawn wondered groggily. Turning his head slightly, he could see Lucas standing where he just was with a large rock in his hand. "Way to go, Lukie." Shawn smiled.

Lucas shrugged. "You looked like you could use a hand. I'm not sure why there are a bunch of rocks in there, though…"

Lassiter came up and pulled Walker off of Shawn, handcuffing him and then handing him off to the three other officers.

"Oh God, Shawn," Juliet cried, falling to her knees next to him. "Don't worry, the paramedics are here. Just wait a moment."

_Wow. I must be worse off then I thought. _Shawn realized vaguely.

"Please," He heard Lucas's voice, "My brother. He was shot trying to help Shawn escape. He's still alive, but he needs help." Lassiter nodded and followed Lucas into the room branching off of the hallway.

"You're going to be okay, Shawn." Juliet's voice brought Shawn's focus back onto her. "I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault," He said simply. Suddenly his eyelids were getting very heavy. He felt Juliet take his hand and glanced down at it. When he looked he also noticed the numerous cuts in his skin caused by Walker and his stupid knife. Suddenly the cuts started burning fiercely. "Wow. Lukie was right. Just like a paper cut," He mumbled to himself.

"What? What are you talking about, Shawn?" Juliet's worried voice barely penetrated the haze that was surrounding him.

"Hmm?" He was looking at her, but her face was blurry. "Why are there two of you, Jules?" Shawn wondered dazedly.

"What?"

Shawn was suddenly so tired and in so much pain. "I think I'm gonna take a nap now."

"What? No, Shawn! Don't you dare! Keep your eyes open! Come on, stay with me," Juliet pleaded with him.

"Mmkay," He said, unable to say no to Juliet. "Wow. Talking about adrenaline," He mused as his eyes shut and darkness overtook him.

**OooOooO**

**Yes, I know. Another cliffe. I am quite evil, aren't I? Sorry about that. At least you know that Lucas lives! Right? **

**So, anyways, the story that won the vote was "A Little Birdie Told Me". I'm actually really surprised. Thanks to everyone for giving your input! Not to worry, those of you who voted for the other. I will be doing both. In all honesty I'll probably end up posting that one not too long after the other one anyway. I sort of made a rule with myself that I won't be doing more than two stories at a time, so once I finish the Glee one I'm currently writing I'll get to work. "A Little Birdie" will most likely be posted the same day the last chapter of this is posted, so look out for it!**

**Please review, guys! Thanks! :D**


	20. Making the Call

**Chapter 20. It's super short, sorry. Best I could do. **

**Thanks so much for the awesome reviews! Keep it up! :D**

**OooOooO**

"I think I'm gonna take a nap now," Shawn mumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion. Juliet felt cold fear creeping up her spine.

"What? No, Shawn! Don't you dare! Keep your eyes open! Come on, stay with me," She pleaded with him.

"Mmkay… Wow. Talking about adrenaline," Juliet didn't know whether she wanted to cry, scream, throw up or pass out when Shawn's eyes fluttered shut.

"Shawn? Shawn! Can I get some help over here? Shawn!" She grabbed Shawn's shoulders and shook him none too gently. "Wake up, Shawn! Don't you dare do this."

A bystander would almost think that the Detective was angry with the stricken man: Not a tear fell from her eyes and she shook him like she was trying to knock some sense into him, though she was yelling like a thoroughly broken person.

Lassiter heard the commotion from the other room, where he was getting Todd situated with the paramedics, and sprinted to his partner, thinking that Shawn had died.

"O'Hara!" He cried, seeing how Juliet was shaking Shawn. "Stop it! That's not going to help him."

The paramedics ran up behind him. Lassiter grabbed his partner by the shoulders and pried her off of the psychic. As he expected, she fought against his grip, but she was no match for his strength.

"Let me go!" She cried in frustration. Carlton could hear the desperation in her voice.

"Stop, O'Hara. He's in good hands. You've done all you can," He said in the most soothing voice he could. Lassiter felt his partner relax a miniscule amount under his grip. "Let's get to the hospital." Juliet nodded and allowed her partner to steer her towards the car.

"This is all my fault," She whispered.

OooOooO

She didn't want to make the call. She _really _didn't want to make the call. But she had to. She was the chief; it was her job.

Each ring of the phone put here more and more on edge. What would she say? How would she say it?

She didn't have long to plan; he picked up on the third ring. "Henry Spencer."

"Oh, uh, Henry. It's Karen," She spluttered, caught off guard by his quick answer.

"Is it Shawn?" Henry's voice was laced with barely-restrained panic.

"Yes, it is. Shawn—" The chief was cut off mid-explanation.

"Where is he? Is he okay? Is he alive?" All attempts at hiding his panic were lost.

"I don't know. Your son was found and is currently being taken to the county hospital. That's all I know—"

Dial tone.

Karen sighed and flipped her phone closed.

"That wasn't so bad." She said to herself.

**OooOooO**

**Okay, I know it was short, but just be happy I got this out. I've been crazy crazy busy. I'll do my best to update this coming weekend, but I make no promises. Sorry **

**Since I updated last I've posted two stories. The kind of stories where I was hit by inspiration and couldn't help but write it. **

**It's Funny: ****This story is a deathfic. I think it's pretty sad. It was my first deathfic. Basically, I was writing the beginning of this chappie with Jules and Shawn and thought "What if he died?" And then wrote it. **

**A Little Birdie Told Me:**** This is the story that y'all voted for. There's a serial that tweets his actions in real time.**

**I'd appreciate it if y'all checked these out and told me what you thought.**

**I know I'm a suckish updater, but I'd appreciate it if you reviewed anyway! :D**


	21. The Blame Game

**New chappie! Yay!**

**Thanks to all of you fantastic reviewers! Please keep it up :D**

**OooOooO**

Fear.

Henry Spencer was terrified. He was terrified of losing his only son. And not just to death. From his time on the force he'd seen many a cop lose his wits after being tortured. If that happened to Shawn he wouldn't know what to do.

Anxiety.

Henry Spencer's mind was racing through all of the worst-case scenarios of Shawn's current state. Somehow he knew, just _knew_, that none of them would hold a candle to the reality.

Anger.

Henry Spencer was pissed off. How could anyone, especially his son's friends, think that Shawn was capable of murder? Murder! That would be like accusing a Chihuahua of embezzlement.

Betrayal.

Henry Spencer had a knife in his back. A cop did this? A fellow member of the force kidnapped and tortured his son. It was surreal. Even though he hadn't known this particular detective personally, he felt like he had a bond for all other men and women in blue.

As Henry Spencer sat in the waiting room of the hospital he was so overwhelmed with emotions that he thought his head would explode.

He had sprinted through the automatic doors eight minutes previously, demanding word of his son. Of course, the doctors had told him nothing.

Carlton Lassiter and Juliet O'Hara had come sprinting through the doors five minutes previously. The two detectives were immediately assaulted by an onslaught of questions from the frantic father. Lassiter, being the more stable of the two, answered each question with as much patience and accuracy as he could muster, though he stayed away from detail when it came to Shawn's injuries.

"He was in pretty bad shape," Lassiter was saying, "but I see no reason why he shouldn't make it."

Henry looked relieved, but that wasn't enough for him. "Pretty bad? What does that mean? You can have a pretty bad paper cut, and you can have a pretty bad gunshot wound. Could you be a bit more specific?" Both detectives could tell that the ex-cop was on the verge of a breakdown. They exchanged a glance.

"We didn't have the chance to see the extent of his injuries at the scene," Carlton told him, "but it was clear that he was tortured. How, I can't say."

Henry ran his hands over his scalp and sat down in one of the plastic waiting room chairs. He leaned over and put his head in his hands. "This isn't happening," He whispered.

The partners stood over the grieving father for a moment before Juliet took the chair next to him. She put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Henry looked up at her and nodded. No words were necessary.

"Where is he?" A new voice came from the front of the waiting room.

"Gus—" Juliet began sympathetically.

"No," Gus snapped, "Not you. He trusted you and you betrayed him. I don't want to hear from you." He looked at Henry. "Where is he?"

Juliet looked like she'd been slapped in the face, and Lassiter looked guilty.

"He's in surgery. I don't know anymore than that," Henry answered.

Gus sighed and began pacing.

"Gus, " Juliet pleaded. She stood up and grabbed his arm. Gus shook her off immediately.

"Don't. This is your fault. Yours and his," He yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at Lassiter.

"Just wait a minute, Guster," Lassiter interjected. "We were just doing our job—"

"Like hell you were," Gus spat. "I know that you didn't believe he did it. I _know _you didn't. But you sent him to jail anyways."

"Gus, please, we were doing everything we could to clear him. The evidence was too overwhelming—" Juliet was on the verge of tears.

"Don't give me that. You could've stopped it. I know you could," Gus retorted.

"You don't know what the hell your talking about!" Lassiter yelled back.

"Will everybody just shut up?" Somehow Henry's voice was the quietest and the most powerful at the same time. "Right now my son is in there fighting for his life. And what are you people doing? You're playing the blame game. Shawn wouldn't want that."

The three companions exchanged a guilty look.

"You're right," Gus said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. Just stop it," Henry replied. Gus, Juliet and Lassiter all nodded, and then settled down in the chairs for a long wait.

"What's taking so long?" An impatient Henry Spencer cried. They'd been waiting for over two hours. "This is getting ridiculous."

No one replied. They didn't know what to say.

Fifteen minutes later, they got their answer.

"Family of Shawn Spencer?" A scrub-clad doctor announced from across the waiting room. It would be impossible to say who shot out of their seats and across the room fastest.

"That's us," Juliet declared.

The doctor smiled at the mismatched group. "I'm Dr. Wyatt Riley. I'm one of the doctors that has been treating Shawn."

"How is he?"

"Is he okay?"  
"Can we see him?"

Questions were shot at the doctor from all directions.

Dr. Riley smiled again. "Yes, I'm glad to tell you that Mr. Spencer is expected to make a full recovery."

Each of the four released a breath they'd been holding for the past two and a half hours.

"Can we see him?" Henry asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"Shawn is in recovery right now. He should be waking up at any time. Yes, you can see him, but I'm going to have to keep it to one at a time. Wouldn't want to over stimulate him." Riley looked at each of the friends. "I'll take you to his room. Who's first?"

**OooOooO**

**Yay! I resolved the cliffe! Happy?**

**Sorry if Gus is sort of OOC. I'm not too great at writing him :/**

**One more thing. So, from your reviews I've gathered that most of you really like Lucas. To be honest, I do too. So I had an idea. I'm thinking about having Todd and Lucas making at least a cameo in my stories from now on. Maybe something really small, maybe they're a huge part of the story, but I want to include them some how. In each story they're in, they'll be introduced as completely new characters. As in, Shawn won't already know him. Any thoughts. Is it a stupid idea, or do you like it? **

**Please review, my friends. Thanks! :D**


	22. These are MY Confessions

No one argued when Henry insisted he go first.

"He's my son. You all can wait," He said gruffly before shouldering his way through the group and towards the patient rooms. Dr. Riley hurried after him.

"I'm going to have to ask you to keep it to about five minutes," the doctor informed him.

Henry nodded and continued walking purposely, the rest of the group in his wake.

"If you're going to show me where my kid's room is you're going to have to walk faster than that," He grumbled.

On command Wyatt Riley quickened his pace and overtook the father. The others were quietly shocked at how he could move so fast without jogging.

As if reading their minds, Riley turned around to look at them and grinned. "I'm a doctor. It's part of the job description."

The others shrugged in acceptance and sped up themselves. When Dr. Riley stopped in front of a large door the silence seemed to get quieter.

Intensive Care Unit

The words were engraved on a plastic plaque that rest on a neutrally colored door.

"Shawn is in the ICU?" Juliet asked in a very small voice.

"His injuries were extensive and serious," Dr. Riley explained, "we wanted to give Mr. Spencer the best care possible."

No one said anything, but the four companions exchanged a glance. They were all thinking the same thing: _this must be worse than I thought._

Without another word, Henry Spencer pushed the doors open and entered the ICU.

It was a very muted place. No paintings, no flowers, no colorful scrubs. The walls were an off white that matched the floor as well as the beds. The only sound was the beeping of the machines that were running in each of the rooms.

"He's in that one," Dr. Riley told the father quietly, pointing to a room in the back, "Number 147."

Henry nodded wordlessly and slowly made his way to the indicated door. The others made themselves as comfortable as possible in the hard plastic chairs and waited.

OooOooO

The soft squeak of the door opening cut through the silence like a knife through warm butter. Henry Spencer, once so eager to see his son, was moving slowly, as if in a trance.

When he saw Shawn lying in the hospital bed he felt the little food he'd eaten since his son had gone missing begin to resurface.

Shawn looked terrible. His skin was as pale as a sheet, aside from the deep red cuts littering his body that served as a stark contrast. His left arm was in a cast and his wrists were heavily bandaged. Henry could tell that his ribs were wrapped and his bad knee had a brace on it underneath the thin sheet. Several machines monitoring every minute detail of his condition were hooked up to the faux psychic, and were beeping in sync with each other.

Henry felt his heart break in his chest. No one deserved this. Especially not Shawn.

"Oh, kid…" He whispered, allowing himself to collapse into the chair beside the bed. He didn't say anything else. He didn't make a move to hold Shawn's hand. He just sat.

Watching.

Thinking.

How did this happen? Who would possibly want to do that to his son?

Henry sighed heavily. In all his years on the force he'd never seen anything like it. Well, maybe he had. But it seemed worse now. Much, much worse.

"You would, kid. You would get yourself into this."

A knock on the door made Henry jump out of his chair.

"I'm sorry, sir," Dr. Wyatt Riley apologized, "but you've been in here for fifteen minutes. I'm going to have to ask you to let someone else see Mr. Spencer." The doctor looked genuinely sorry.

Henry nodded and turned back to his son. "I'm sorry, Shawn," He said before walking out the door.

OooOooO

Gus was next.

As soon as Henry was visible walking down the hall, he jumped out of his seat and sprinted to Shawn's room, only to freeze up and stand outside the door for a full minute.

Finally, as if in slow motion, he lifted his hand and placed it gingerly on the doorknob. He then turned the handle quickly and slipped in.

If possible, the sight of Shawn was more sickening to him than it was to Henry.

"Oh my God…" He said softly, taking everything in in one glance. Gus, unlike Henry, didn't immediately make his way to the bed; instead he stood, leaning heavily against the door.

"Shawn…" He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. Keeping his eyes closed, he pushed himself off the wall and walked over to the bed. Gus opened his eyes just enough to find the chair. He groped for Shawn's hand.

"I know you'd make fun of me for keeping my eyes closed, Shawn, but I just can't look at you right now. And I know that after I said that you would make some pseudo-hurt comment about how I think you're ugly. But you know what, Shawn? I'm going to keep my eyes closed and there's nothing you can do about it," Gus told his friend. He sighed and sat quietly for a moment.

"This is crazy, Shawn. You, like this? It's totally insane. This was supposed to be fun. Being detectives was supposed to be fun. You promised, Shawn. You promised it would be one case. One short, fun, safe case and then we could move on to your next hair brained scheme," Gus sounded like a small, scared child as he said this.

"I don't know why I do it. I don't know why I continue to allow myself to fall victim to you and your crazy-ass ideas. After this I'm done. I'm serious, Shawn. I will do it no longer," Gus declared.

He sighed again. "But you know I don't mean that. I have too much fun. Just… be more careful, okay. For Henry's sake. No, for the doctors' sakes. I'm pretty sure that your dad is ready to kill someone out there."

Gus cracked open one eye to look down at his watch and saw that his five minutes were up. "I've got to go, Shawn," He said regretfully, "but I'll be back."

Gus stood up and, once again, opened his eyes just enough to navigate his way out of the room.

OooOooO

Juliet forced Lassiter to go. Kindness and compassion weren't exactly his forte, so he planned on just staying stoic in the waiting room.

But his partner had a gun. And hormones. A dangerous combination.

So, reluctantly, the head detective entered his co-worker's room. Having seen Shawn bloodied and battered in the clutches of his kidnapper just hours before, he wasn't as bothered by his deathly appearance.

Closing the door behind him, Carlton cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Hello, Spencer." He stayed halfway between the bed and the door, as if he thought he might need to make a swift exit.

"So… O'Hara made me come see you. She's pretty beat up about the whole, you almost dying thing. It's really not a pretty sight. I'd tell you to steer clear, but you're not exactly mobile right now…" Lassiter's eyes darted around the room and he crossed and uncrossed his arms nervously. He _really _wasn't good at this.

"Anyways, I'm… sorry. You know, about thinking you savagely killed an innocent girl. I only cared about the physical evidence; I didn't even consider the fact that I _knew _you were innocent. Some head detective I am, right?" Lassiter could have sworn he saw a slight smirk tug at the psychic's lips, but it was gone as soon as he saw it.

"Ummm, yeah. So, I hope you'll forgive me, and I hope you feel better soon," He said quickly. "And I have no idea why the hell I'm telling you this. You're completely and totally out, but oh well. Like I said, I don't particularly want O'Hara to castrate me right now."

Lassiter turned to leave. He had his hand on the doorknob when he looked back at Shawn.

"You're a good detective, Spencer. I hope you don't let this get in your way," He finished before leaving the room.

OooOooO

Juliet was last. She had wanted it that way. As the other three went, she sat in the waiting room planning everything she would say, word for word.

She made her way down the hallway very much like Henry did: slowly and uncertainly. That hall seemed endless; like it grew with every step she took. Her palms were sweaty and her pulse was racing. She was terrified.

She reached the door and opened it anxiously. It had taken her much too long to walk down that hall. She needed to see Shawn.

Juliet wanted to cry when she saw Shawn. Sure, she had seen him in the field, but he hadn't seemed so weak and vulnerable then. He was still talking and joking and being Shawn. Now he was lying entirely too statically in a plain, colorless hospital bed.

"Hi, Shawn," Her voice sounded broken as she spoke. She sat down beside him and took his hand gently. With her free hand she fussed with some of the hair framing his face.

"I'm so sorry, Shawn," Juliet spoke up again after a long time. "This is all my fault." Her voice broke with emotion as she spoke. "I can't believe I let this happen to you. I can't believe I let myself let you be arrested. And I knew, Shawn, I just _knew _that you hadn't killed that girl! I knew it! But I let my stupid professional side take over. By the time I realized how stupid I was, it was too late. You were gone." By this point, tears were running down Juliet's face freely.

She took a moment to compose herself before she continued. "When I found out that they had taken you, I died a little bit. It hurt so badly that a part of me died. The guilt and fear was just…unbearable. You tried to tell me, Shawn. You tried to tell me that you were innocent, and I believed you, I just didn't do anything about it. That's really worse than not believing you."

Juliet gripped Shawn's hands between both of her own and leaned forward. "I am so sorry, Shawn. You will never know just how sorry I am. I hope you forgive me, but I know that I don't deserve your forgiveness.

"Just know that… know that I would have died if you had. I don't know what I would have done. I care about you, Shawn. Really, it's more than that. I think I'm in love with you. I know I shouldn't be telling you like this, especially because you're not conscious, but I can't keep it to myself anymore. I love you, Shawn. Please forgive me." With that she stood up, swiped her eyes, and headed for the door.

"How long have you been working on that speech?" A voice came from behind her.

Juliet didn't turn around. She just froze in place, staring, open-mouthed, at the door.

It took her a moment, but finally she looked at the source of the words.

"Shawn?" She asked, unable to believe that he was awake.

"Hey, Jules," He said weakly, smiling as he said it.

"How-How long have you been awake?" Juliet's voice was shaking as she stared at her friend.

"Me? Oh, about forty-five minutes now. I woke up a few minutes before mi padre came in," Shawn told her, grinning widely now.

Juliet didn't know whether to be ecstatic or furious. "Are you serious?"

Shawn's smile grew even more. "Yep. It's amazing what people will say when they think you're in a coma. I'll bet they'd say even more if they thought I was dead… Note to self: try that next time."

Juliet shook her head and smiled to match Shawn. "Yeah, sure. Next time," She muttered disbelievingly, resuming her vacated seat.

"Really, though. My dad didn't say much, he just creepishly sat silently, Gus babbled like an idiot, Lassie talked about how you were going to castrate him, and you, well, you were definitely the most interesting." Shawn's smile had grown so much that Juliet wondered how his face didn't split open.

"Oh, so you heard that…" Juliet mumbled embarrassedly.

"Every fantastic word," He answered happily.

Juliet blushed and cast her eyes downward. "Oh…"

Shawn's smile faded and a look of confusion overcame him. "What, what is it, Jules?" He grabbed her hand and held it in a weak grip.

Juliet just shook her head as tears leaked from her eyes once more.

"Oh…" Shawn said, releasing her hand. "Oh. I get it. You thought I was dying or something. You felt bad. You didn't mean it, did you? Any of it."

Juliet's eyes widened as they met his. She shook her head quickly. "No, Shawn! That's not it at all. I meant it. I swear, I really did. It's just that—it's that—"

"It's that what, Jules? What? You tell me you love me and then you do this?"

"No, Shawn, you have to understand—"

"But I don't! Please, explain it to me!" He cried.

Suddenly one of the machines started beeping quickly and loudly.

"Shawn? What's going on, Shawn? Are you okay?" Juliet's terrified voice squeaked.

"I don't…I'm just tired…" Shawn whispered as nurses burst through the door.

"What's happening? Is he okay?" Juliet asked the nurse frantically.

"He's fine, miss. His heart rate is just strongly elevated. I'm going to have to ask you to leave," the nurse informed her.

Juliet locked eyes with Shawn. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," She told him before running out the door.

**OooOooO**

**Wow. So I totally didn't plan on that happening. Oh well. I like it, so you can deal.**

**One more chapter! It's been a great run. Sad to see it go.**

_**SUPERDUPER IMPORTANT! READ THIS **_**: **

**So, I'm going to be starting another story soon! Yay! Please check out my profile and take the poll to tell me which story I should write! Thanks!**

**Here's the link, psychfic people: .net/u/2197274/Olivia94**

**Please review, guys! How do you want it to end? **


	23. The Living Dead

Two weeks and three days. That's how long Shawn had to stay in the hospital. And he hated every second of it.

The doctors made him stay in bed and didn't allow pineapple smoothies. It was like being tortured all over again…well, sort of.

On top of the criminal lack of delicious flavor, Juliet didn't come by again. Not once. Shawn may pretend to know the inner workings of the female mind, but this particular detective made even the shallowest of pretenses an impossibility.

"So… have you seen Jules around?" He would ask casually every time Gus, Lassiter or his dad would walk into his room. The only one that ever answered in the affirmative was Lassiter, and he only came by once after the first night.

"I just thought I'd come by to inform you about Todd and Lucas Damiano," Lassiter announced after an awkward greeting, about a week after Shawn was admitted. "Todd—or was it Lucas? Whatever. The clone that was shot is going to be fine. They're both in custody right now and their trial is set for two weeks from today—"

Shawn cut the detective off in alarm. "Wait, Lassie! You can't seriously be charging them! They saved my life!" He exclaimed.

Lassiter looked sympathetic, but shook his head stoically. "They also are the ones that kidnapped you and killed a man—"

"Todd killed Turner to save his brother and me. You know that. It's in my statement," Shawn told Lassiter determinedly.

The older man was shocked at the psychic's insistence; he had never seen Shawn so serious. Ever.

"Would you let me finish?" Lassiter growled. "I was going to say that, if you were to testify on their behalf, they might be able to get a drastically reduced sentence." When Shawn still looked discontented, he added, "Look, Spencer, I know that it isn't fair, but I don't make the laws, I just enforce them."

Shawn studied Lassiter for a moment. "I know, sorry." He sounded embarrassed.

Carlton sighed. He didn't blame Shawn; he had been having a difficult week after all.

"So… have you seen Jules around?" Speaking of difficult…

Lassiter shifted uncomfortably where he stood. "Yes…" He said uneasily.

There was a moment of incredibly awkward silence.

"How is she?" Shawn asked quietly.

Quiet. That wasn't good. Shawn wasn't quiet. Ever. God, O'Hara was taking a toll on him.

"Pretty good, I guess. I'm sure she'd stop by, but…you know…heavy case load," Carlton made an excuse for his partner.

Shawn nodded quickly. "Of course. I can imagine, it's that time of the year," He muttered nonsensically. "Tell her I say hi," Shawn said, meeting eyes with the detective. Lassiter couldn't help but feel pity for the man when he saw hints of the lost and desperate look that Shawn was barely covering up.

"I will," He told Shawn meaningfully. Lassiter turned to leave, but stopped short of the door. "You take care of yourself, Spencer."

OooOooO

When Shawn was released, his first urge was to go see Juliet. It's all he wanted to do. He wanted—no, _needed_—to see her, to talk to her.

But Shawn Spencer has never been anything if not stubborn.

"She doesn't want to see me. She's made that perfectly clear. I'm not going to force her to see me," Shawn told Gus in an uncharacteristically detached way.

The two best friends were sitting in traffic on the way to Gus's apartment, about four days after he was released ("No, there is no way in hell I'm staying with my dad!").

Gus sighed. Shawn hadn't been himself lately: he was sad, angry, and quiet. Three things Shawn Spencer wasn't. The pharmaceuticals sales rep would like nothing more than to hear a ridiculous, obscure eighties reference.

"I'm sure she'll come by when she's ready—"

"Yeah, Gus, and I'm Tina Turner," Shawn spat rudely.

It was then that Gus made up his mind: he either had fix things between Shawn and Juliet, or kill his best friend.

OooOooO

Juliet was pretty sure that she was slowly dying. Slowly and painfully. _I am so, so stupid. _The words repeated like a mantra in her head. _Really. How is it possible for someone to be so stupid?_

She sat at her desk, day after day, doing everything and nothing at the same time. She hadn't been in the field since, what she liked to call, 'The Incident'.

She picked up the phone to call Shawn about every fifteen minutes. She never got past the first two digits of his phone number. _He hates me. Of course he hates me. I'd hate me, too._ She'd think every time, putting the phone down. _But maybe he doesn't hate me. Maybe he wants me to call him…_ She'd think a few minutes later, before picking up the phone again. It was a vicious cycle.

A cycle that wasn't broken until Gus took a chainsaw to it.

"You need to go see Shawn," Gus declared, barging into the station and up to her desk one day.

It took a moment for Juliet to recover from the shock at seeing him, but once she did, she replied, "I don't think that's the best idea, Gus. Last time I was there, the nurses—"

"Wait, what? The nurses? Juliet, Shawn isn't in the hospital anymore." Her friend told her. Juliet's heart stopped.

"What?"

"Yeah. He's been out for like, five days. You didn't know that?" Gus sounded surprised at her revelation.

"No," She answered, clenching her jaw. Now she didn't know whether to be relieved, nervous, or angry. Fantastic.

Gus shifted uncomfortably in front of her desk. "Oh. Well…yeah. You need to go see him."

"I still don't think that—"

"Please, Juliet. He hasn't been himself lately. He's been…mean. Mean and sad and distant. Look, I don't know what happened between the two of you, but I do know that it's the reason he's been so…not-Shawn. He's gone through so much lately, and he needs someone to help him through it."

"He has you," Juliet said simply, as if that was the answer to all of their problems.

"Yes. But he _needs _you."

OooOooO

It took Juliet another two days to go see Shawn. The decision was mindless, really. She had just left the office to go get some coffee, and she ended up in front of Gus's front door. Like a robot she got out of her car, climbed the stairs to his apartment, and knocked on the door. That's when she realized what she was doing.

"Oh, crap," She said under her breath. Then she walked away.

Juliet heard the door open down the hall, but she kept walking. It wasn't until she heard her name that she stopped.

"Jules?" Juliet stopped in her tracks. She took a deep breath and turned to face the voice.

"Hey, Shawn."

**OooOooO**

**You know how I said that this would be the last chapter? PSYCH! **

**In all fairness, I seriously thought it would be, but you know what? The world doesn't always work the way you want it to. Deal with it. **

**I seriously apologize if Shawn is too OOC, but, in my defense, I made him OOC on purpose. Well, sort of. Personally I think that he really would react in a way like this. Well, maybe. I don't know. **

**ANYWAYS, next chappie is completely, totally, 100% Shules. Here's to hoping that I don't screw it up. I suck at romance :/**

**I WOULD LOVE, LOVE, LOVE IT IF YOU REVIEWED! It would make my day! How do you want it to end? I know you have an opinion!**

**Also, please vote on the poll on my profile. Thanks so much!**

**http:/www. Fanfiction .net/u/2197274/Olivia94**


	24. Who Needs Therapy When You Have Gus

"Ugh," Shawn grumbled when he heard a knock on the door. He was _so _not in the mood to see people. "Coming," He called to the door as he turned off the television.

Slowly, Shawn pulled himself off the couch. He made his way towards the door as fast as he could while still avoiding the minefield of garbage scattered around his best friend's apartment.

When Shawn finally opened the door, he was surprised to find that no one was standing in the hall. "What the?" He stepped out into the hallway and glanced to the left. No one. But when he looked to the right…

"Jules?" Somehow Shawn managed to keep the shock out of his voice. Sure enough, there was Juliet O'Hara a good fifteen feet down the hall, getting further every second as she made a hasty retreat.

At the sound of her name, Juliet stopped. Shawn saw her shoulders tense, then relax as she took a deep breath.

"Hey, Shawn," Her voice sounded small as she turned to face him.

The two stood staring at each other from across the hall for a moment. Shawn desperately hoped that the conflicting emotions raging inside of him weren't visible to Juliet.

He cleared his throat. "What, Jules, are you ding-dong-ditching now? That's so 1987," Shawn joked half-heartedly.

"No, um, I came to see you," Juliet told him.

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so were you planning on ringing the doorbell, running and hiding, and then looking at me from afar? I've got to admit, Jules, that's pretty creepy." Though he said the words jokingly, no humor was present in Shawn's voice.

Blush crept up the detective's cheeks as she realized how strange the situation seemed.

"Sorry, I just didn't think you'd be too keen on seeing me right now. I guess I chickened out," Juliet said embarrassedly.

"Don't be ridiculous, Jules. What would make you think that?" Shawn somehow managed to sound genuinely curious and sarcastic at the same time.

She scanned him head to toe before answering, taking in his shabby appearance, his pajamas, scruffy hair, and five-o-clock shadow. "Well you never told me you were out of the hospital."

"Well you never visited," Shawn shot back. His voice had a sharp edge that betrayed his hurt and anger.

Juliet shifted from one foot to the other awkwardly. "I was busy," She told him quietly.

Shawn stared at her for a moment, his keen eyes seemed to penetrate her exterior and read the thoughts in the innermost recesses of her mind.

"Oh, yeah. Yes, of course. You were busy. I get it. Don't worry about it. Well, thanks for stopping by. Tell Lassie I say hi," He said quickly, heading back into the apartment.

Juliet hurried forward in alarm. "No, Shawn, wait," She called to him. When he didn't stop, she sprinted towards him and stuck her foot in the doorway to keep the apartment door open.

"Move your foot, Jules."

"No."

"Juliet. Move your foot."

"No, Shawn. I want to talk to you."

Juliet saw a fire spring up in his eyes.

"Oh! Wait, now you want to talk? That's funny, because I'm pretty sure you haven't wanted to talk for, oh, I don't know, a month? But that doesn't matter anymore because now you do," Shawn cried angrily.

Juliet was shocked to silence. She had never seen Shawn like this.

"What are you waiting for? You say you want to talk, let's talk!" Shawn threw open the door and swung an arm around, indicating that she was free to enter the apartment. He was practically shouting.

"I am so sorry," Juliet's whisper somehow seemed infinitely louder than Shawn's shout. She stood unmoved, looking upon him with sadness, pity and guilt. She hadn't realized how bad things were with him—how much she'd hurt him. She began to cry. "I am so, so sorry." Quickly the cries became sobs. Juliet's knees weakened and she plopped down on the ground, leaning against the wall. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and buried her face. Her shoulders shook with the force of her continued sobs.

Shawn's anger melted away in an instant. He slowly lowered himself to the ground to sit beside her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and rested his chin on her head.

Somewhere down the hall, Gus came walking purposefully towards his apartment, sales kit in hand. Upon seeing Shawn and Juliet, he turned back and walked the other way without missing a beat.

Shawn allowed himself a small smile for his friend. He appreciated the privacy.

"It's okay, Jules," He told Juliet softly.

She didn't say anything, just shook her head heartily with it still buried in her arms. Shawn chuckled out loud at how adorable she looked.

"Come on, Jules. Look at me," He ordered her gently. Juliet shook her head again. Shawn squeezed her shoulders lightly. "Please, Jules? Just look at me." Reluctantly, Juliet raised her head.

Her eyes were huge and bright blue from crying. Shawn smiled at her and wiped away her tears. "I forgive you," He told her.

"No! You can't forgive me! I don't deserve to be forgiven!" Juliet insisted.

"What? What are you talking about?" Shawn asked, genuinely surprised.

"I don't deserve to be forgiven! You tried to tell me. You tried to tell me that you were framed and I didn't listen. I knew you were telling the truth, but I didn't listen! And then you woke up and you heard me tell you that I love you and then you were being so nice to me and I didn't deserve it and I couldn't take it and I left and I just couldn't see you because I just felt so bad and—" Juliet's babbling was barely coherent. Shawn was just looking at her and smiling broadly. "—and you were let out and you didn't tell me and—why are you smiling? You shouldn't be smiling! You should hate me!"

"I love you, too," Shawn said, his smile becoming even larger.

"Wait, what?" Juliet sounded extremely confused. 

"I didn't say it back, did I? I meant to, I guess I just didn't get the chance."

"I don't get it!" Juliet cried, "Why are you telling me you love me? Why don't you hate me?" She said it as if Shawn were completely insane.

"Were you not listening? I can't hate you. I'm too busy loving you. Look, Jules, I'm not mad. You were doing your job and I get that. Yeah, I was mad about you going completely AWOL for the past three weeks, but you just sort of explained that in your psychobabble. I mean, I kind of zoned out for the last half of it so you're going to have to explain it later, but for now I get it."

Juliet looked at Shawn in awe. She could hardly believe what she was hearing.

"You really forgive me?"

Shawn sighed and popped up from the ground. He offered his hand to help Juliet off the ground.

"Jules, I don't lie. Ever." He smiled at her.

Juliet couldn't help but smile back. "I love you, Shawn."

Shawn's grin had reached the danger zone it was so huge. "I love you too, Jules."

He was pulling Juliet in for a kiss when Gus came striding purposefully down the hall once again. Seeing them, he turned back and walked away without missing a beat. The grin on his face was almost as big as Shawn's. His best friend was back.

**OooOooO**

**So, super, super cheesy ending. You're welcome or I'm sorry depending on who you are. **

**THANK YOU SO SO SO SO SO SO SO MUCH FOR STICKING WITH THIS STORY! I appreciate it so much you have no idea. You are all fantastic, every single one of you. **

**Just in case any of you were wondering, the next story I'm releasing is called ****Cheaters Never Prosper, but Neither Do Idiots.**** It should be up pretty much now. It's basically a 'what if Juliet went to Italy' kind of thing. Tons of whump, tons of Shules. I'd love it if you checked it out. **

**Really, this story is kind of like a filler because my next HUGE one is going to be the one about karma on my profile. Basically, it's about a serial killer who kills wrongdoers, and is convinced that he/she is doing the right thing. At each crime scene, he/she leaves a checklist. On it is has 'the thief, the killer, the home wrecker, the liar, etc'. Guess who 'the liar' is ;) Keep an eye out!**

**Anyways, it's been a great run. I'm going to miss this story. PLEASE finish strong by reviewing! I'd really appreciate it! Thanks so much! :D**


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